Rules of Conduct
by BittyBlueEyes
Summary: A potion study gone terribly wrong causes Hermione and Fred to see each other in a whole new way. soul-switching *Complete*
1. Oops

**I have to say, I'm really excited about this story. I really hope you enjoy it. **

**And much credit and praise is due to the incredible Binka Fudge who has helped me tremendously in refining details in my writing and helping me brainstorm when I get stuck. You are awesome! Can't thank you enough!**

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Hermione stood alone at a table in a dark corner of the Gryffindor common room. She tried desperately to concentrate on the notes she was writing but was finding it extremely difficult with all the chaos around her. Gryffindor had just won a quidditch match against Hufflepuff and the entire house seemed to want to celebrate. Usually, Hermione would join in, but felt compelled to continue her independent study for potions class. Normally quidditch matches took place on Saturdays but because of the upcoming Hogsmeade trip, it had been moved up to Wednesday afternoon. She felt that it was incredibly irresponsible to spend time celebrating on a school night, especially when afternoon classes had been cancelled. Though she always appreciated watching a good game of quidditch, she felt that studies came first.

The room seemed to be getting smaller by the minute as more and more students packed in. Hermione's eyebrows knit in irritation as the Weasley twins clumsily bumped into her.

"Watch it guys!" she admonished, holding her goblet to the table so that it would not spill.

"Oh, Hermione. Give it a break. Come celebrate!" urged Fred.

"Yeah, feed your pets later. They're not going to starve if you leave them for a couple hours," assured George.

Hermione looked down at the two cages in front of her. One held a bird and the other a tortoise. "They're not pets. They're for a study I'm doing on-"

"Always a study," teased Fred, setting his bottle of butterbeer on the table. "Can't even enjoy an animal unless it serves for scientific purpose."

Hermione huffed indignantly. "I can to. I have Crookshanks."

"Just put it aside, Doll, and join the party," said George.

"No. I have to finish this," Hermione said determinedly.

"Suit yourself," said George disappearing into the crowd.

Hermione looked up at Fred, wondering why he wasn't leaving as well. He looked at Hermione with a look of pity that annoyed her. She was not a pitiful person and therefore did not deserve to be pitied.

"In all honesty, you really need to relax and enjoy yourself sometimes…"

Hermione just sighed impatiently, wishing he would just leave her be. She turned her head back to her notes and picked up her quill.

"Here, at least have a drink…" Fred picked the goblet off the table and offered it to Hermione.

"No thanks, I know better than to except drinks from you," she said without looking up.

"Well, suit yourself then. But I tried to help." Fred looked around the common room and smirked when he found his twin snogging Angelina Johnson in the corner. He glanced at his watch and hoped that George would make it a quick snog. They had to leave in just a minute. Fred absently brought the goblet to his lips and felt an unexpected burn as the liquid seared his throat. His body shuddered violently and he choked and coughed. His eyes watered and he tried to clear his vision. He stared down at the goblet in his hand and turned around quickly to face the table where his bottle of butterbeer sat. What did he just drink?

"Fred?! Oh, God… don't tell me you just drank that?!" Hermione gasped, staring at the goblet in Fred's hand.

"What is it?!" Fred panicked.

"It's my potion!" Hermione cried. "You drank it?!"

"Oi! Fred! Let's go!" Lee called over the heads of their underclassmen.

Fred held up a finger to Lee that indicated that he needed a moment.

"Yeah, I drank it," answered Fred in the same panic as Hermione. He was looking over his body, expecting to grow spikes or scales or something, but nothing was happening.

"Did you swallow it?" Hermione looked terrified and it was making Fred feel even more anxious.

"Yes! Is it going to hurt? What does it – "

Hermione had taken a quick look around the room as he talked and before he could finish, her lips were on his. Fred's eyes widened as Hermione's lips moved forcefully with his. His lack of response did not seem to deter her so he joined in, not knowing what else to do. Her tongue quickly requested entrance to his mouth and he complied. Her tongue swirled around his and he felt his head becoming dizzy, a warmth spreading to his groin. As quickly as the kiss started, it stopped. Fred looked around and saw that nobody had noticed.

"You are so bloody retarded, Fred Weasley!" Hermione yelled angrily. She wasn't one to cuss, but she had rarely been so angry.

Fred blinked in utter confusion. Did the potion work like a reverse love potion? He ingested and she fell for him? But then why was she yelling at him? "What – what was _that_?!"

Rather than respond, Hermione angrily reached up and grabbed a handful of Fred's ginger hair and tugged his head into a bow so she could better reach him. She plucked a single hair from his head and turned back to the desk. Fred could not see her well, but could see that her eye was twitching in irritation.

"Oi! Fred!" George yelled at him this time. "We have to go! Hurry your arse up!"

"All Right!" Fred yelled back. He glanced at his watch again. He really did have to hurry. "What does it do Hermione? Is it going to hurt me? Is there an antidote? What does it do?"

"It's for my independent study…" Hermione picked up the goblet herself and took a large gulp, emptying the remaining potion. Her body shuddered and she coughed uncontrollably.

"And you call me a retard? Why did _you_ drink it?"

"So that-"

"Nevermind. If you drank it, it can't be that bad. I gotta go," Fred said hurriedly.

"Not wait!" Hermione shouted after him.

"I'll be back in an hour! Wait for me!" he shouted back.

"FRED! STOP!!! Wait!" Hermione shouted angrily over the crowd. Most of the students stared at her curiously, but Fred didn't turn. Hermione saw his flaming red hair disappear through the portrait hole and she buried her face in her hands. What did she do? She had to do it to save his life… but… "Oh, God…" she muttered to herself. "Stupid. Stupid. Stupid."

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Fred stood crammed in between George and Lee in a small broom cupboard in the dungeons. George had a small glass circle against the door which allowed them to see through the solid wood. The three of them wore mischievous grins as they watched a few Slytherins walking down to the entrance of their common room. Fred glanced at his watch again. Any moment now, the group of boys would be coming.

Fred's stomach clenched uncomfortably and he straightened. An odd numbness began to creep through his toes and finger tips. He took a small step back and looked at his hands which were becoming numb. His breathing became shallow and quick. His heart raced uncontrollably fast. The numbness was spreading up his legs and arms. His head was swirling, his thoughts becoming fuzzy. His heart beat so fast that he was afraid it would burst. George and Lee were now watching him.

"Fred?" George asked tentatively.

Fred's breathing stopped as the numbness reached his chest. His heart raced ever faster. His body shuddered violently, his heart stopped, and his body fell into a limp heap on the cold stone floor.

Fred gasped, pulling in a lung-full of air and his eyes flew open. He stared above him at a piece of deep crimson cloth. His head was resting on a soft feather pillow. He was in the Gryffindor dormitories. He wondered what had happened and why he was there. Before he could pull any thoughts together, two high pitched giggles stole his attention. Why were there girls in the dormitory? He sat up and put his hand to his head. He gasped in shock as his hand came in contact with long bushy hair. He pulled it in front of his eyes to examine the soft brown strands. He caught sight of his hand and put it down in front of him. His hands were small and dainty, and so very soft.

"You okay, Hermione?" one of the female voices asked. Fred looked up and saw Parvati and Lavender on one of the dorm beds. But this wasn't his dorm. There were no posters of qudditch teams. The room was covered instead with posters of famous wizard music bands and message boards covered with photos, flowers, and strings of beads. The smell also, it smelled soft and floral. "Hermione…?"

"Hermione?" Fred asked. The voice that came out was not his own. It had a higher pitch and, though very familiar, it was not his own. He touched his throat and looked down. His eyes widened at the sight of women's breasts on his chest. Hermione… he was Hermione. He looked down at his hands again and noticed that there was a piece of paper clutched tightly in his left. It was a letter addressed to 'Fred'. "Umm… yeah… I'm fine." Fed lied in Hermione's voice. Lavender and Parvati looked uncertain, but they had given up trying to understand Hermione years ago.

Fred quickly turned his attention to the letter.

_Fred Weasley,_

_You are such a sodding ass! Not only were you stupid enough to drink an unknown potion, but even more stupid not to stick around for an explanation. I'm going to get you back for this if it's the last thing I do!!! I risk my life to save yours and you don't even have the kindness to let me explain. I sure hope you're paying attention now! The potion you drank was a soul switching potion. Obviously your soul has taken residence in my body and as you read this my soul is stuck in yours. I'll explain everything as soon as I get back. DON'T GO ANYWHERE! As soon as I'm in your body, I'll come right to you. Don't move from that spot! And tell NO ONE!_

_Hermione_

Fred looked around the room nervously. He looked down at his lap, or Hermione's lap, and noticed that his skirt had slid up and most of his thigh was exposed. He blushed furiously and pushed the skirt back down. There was nothing to do but wait.

* * *

"Fred… Fred… Talk to me mate. Are you alright?"

Hermione gasped for breath and her eyes flew open. She was staring directly into the faces of George and Lee.

"You alright, mate?" asked Lee.

Hermione ran her hand through her silky ginger hair and looked down at her body. Her chest looked broad and slightly muscular even under her grey jumper. Her Gryffindor tie swung loosely at her neck. Her large feet felt awkward to her, almost like they were in the way no matter how she positioned them. She looked up again into the concerned faces of the boys in front of her. It was hard to see them through the dark. She looked around, wondering where she was.

"Fred… you alright?" asked George.

"Um, yeah," Hermione had expected to hear Fred's voice when she answered, but still felt startled. "Yeah… I'm okay."

"What made you fall out like that?" asked Lee.

"I don't know," lied Hermione. "I accidentally took some of Hermione's potion… that must be it."

"Did she say what it did?" asked George.

"No. She just said it was harmless," answered Hermione.

"Doesn't look so harmless to me," chuckled Lee.

"I'm alright. I just want to go back to the common room," said Hermione.

"But we didn't get the Slytherins yet," pouted George.

"Well, you stay. I need to go talk to Hermione," Hermione said. George lifted a curious piece of glass to the door and looked through it.

"Coast is clear," George stated and opened the door. "Don't let anyone see you."

Hermione nodded, and hastened through the open door. As she hurried back to Gryffindor tower, frequently tripping over Fred's feet along the way, she could only pray that this time Fred had done as he was told and stayed put, otherwise there'd be hell to pay.

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**Hope you're enjoying it so far. Please let me know what you think! Review!**


	2. You Gotta Shake It

**Okay... body switching stories are always complicated when trying to figure out who the author is referring to. I'm going to be referring to them most often by their souls. I try to mention their bodies as the one they're in at the time. "Hermione touched her ginger hair" but I do also say "Hermione saw her own body descending the stairs" so I hope you'll be able to follow okay. **

**I hope you like it. Again, thanks to Binka Fudge! I think both our brains have been swimming in confusion of discussing POV.  


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Hermione stormed into the Gryffindor common room, pushed through the crowd, and headed straight to the girls' dormitories. She made it three steps up when a loud noise sounded and the stairs slipped under her feet, turning into a stone slide. She landed on her bottom. Every eye in the room was on her, people laughing and pointing. She wanted to crawl away and hide but forced a smile instead. She waited until the room had turned their attention away from her and started shouting up the spiral staircase.

"Hermione! Hermione!" It felt so odd to be shouting her own name.

"What are you doing, Fred?" Ginny asked, coming up on her right.

"Um, I need to talk to Hermione. Hey! Can you go get her?!" Hermione asked looking desperately into Ginny's eyes.

Ginny gave her a strange, amused sort of look. "Fine… but if I disturb her while she's studying, I'm completely blaming you."

Hermione didn't know why, but Ginny's words hurt a little. Did people really think that she desired that kind of isolation? Did they see her as untouchable or unreachable?

A minute later, Hermione saw her own body emerge from the spiral staircase. "We need to talk," Hermione told herself. She pointed to the boys' dormitories and they walked up together.

"Bloody hell, Hermione!" said Fred, with Hermione's voice as he closed and locked the door to the seventh year boys' dorm. "You were playing with a soul switching potion?!"

"You're blaming ME for this then?!" Hermione yelled incredulously in Fred's deep voice. "I wasn't testing it on people. I was testing its effects on animals! It's not my fault you were stupid enough to drink some!"

"_Me_ stupid?! You drank it when you knew what it was!" Fred retorted.

"To save you, you ungrateful prat! You drank it when it didn't have DNA in it. That would have sent your soul from your body without a destination! That's why I kissed you – to transfer my DNA to you."

"I thought it must have been like a reverse love potion. I didn't think there'd be any other reason why you'd kiss me," explained Fred, his anger dissolving into deep thought and comprehension.

"Well I would have explained had you given me the chance! I thought you'd enjoy a kiss better than me spitting in your mouth…"

Fred grimaced at the thought.

"That's what I thought," said Hermione, still fuming.

"So then why did _you_ have to drink some?" Fred asked.

"My DNA gave your soul a place to go, but it's not a good thing to have two souls shoved into one body, just ask Ginny. Not to mention, your body would just lay there without a soul. Stupid to switch half-way. So I took your body," Hermione finished.

Fred finally seemed to be calming down. "Okay… then we just switch back. Where's the potion?"

Hermione looked frustrated. "I was going to test the animals like that for a week… so I just started brewing a new batch today…"

"Hermione, that doesn't make any sense to me," Fred stated bluntly.

"It takes a week to brew the potion, Fred! I can't change us back until I have the potion…"

"WHAT?! We have to stay like this for a week?!" Fred yelled, his anger shooting to it's previous peak.

"Well, don't blame me!" Hermione screamed back. "You're the idiot who screwed up!"

"And who's the idiot who had such a dangerous potion sitting in a goblet in the middle of a crowded party?!" Fred accused.

*smack*

Fred brought his hand to his stinging cheek. "Fuck, Hermione. What the hell? You're not supposed to hit a girl…"

"Well, I know that you're not really a girl. And-"

*smack*

"And neither are you…" Fred growled.

Hermione scowled at Fred. "You know what…? To Hell with you! Maybe I should have let your soul just wander if this is how you're going to be…" Hermione's eyes sparkled with angry tears. She started toward the dorm room door.

Fred felt extremely uncomfortable. It was his body that was tearing up, ready to cry, but it was Hermione that he had upset. He couldn't let her go… where would she go anyway?

"Wait…" Fred said softly. "Look… I'm sorry. I do appreciate what you did. I'm just really frustrated about all this…"

Their eyes met for only a second and quickly fell to the floor.

"I'm sorry too," Hermione said quietly. "I should have been more careful."

"So… what do we do? Should we go to the hospital wing, or the professors…?" Fred asked.

"No!" Hermione said nervously. "We can't tell. _Please_ don't. I could get expelled for this. It was fine for me using it on animals, but to be used on humans… PLEASE we have to keep this a secret."

"A secret from _everyone_?" asked Fred. "George?"

"Yes!" said Hermione. "Haven't you ever heard the saying 'Three can keep a secret if two of them are dead'? The more people that know, the more likely that more will find out. Just you and me… we can pull this off. It's just a week, right?"

Fred looked extremely sceptical. "I don't think it's going to be as easy as you think… but I guess we'll give it a shot. I really don't want anyone to know about this anyway… Um… What's the matter?"

Hermione was biting her lip, which looked very strange to see Fred doing. "I…I have to pee…"

Fred's eyes widened. "You mean…? Merlin's pants… I didn't think about that part! We have to go to the john like this? And shower…?"

"Fred, can we discuss this in a minute? I really have to go…" Hermione started to turn toward the door again.

"No! You can't just go and unzip my trousers! That's private! I don't want you touching my stuff."

"And what do you suggest? Do you want Hermione Granger escorting you to the bathroom and hold you while you piss."

"No… God…" he groaned in frustration. "Wait… Have- have you ever seen a guy's… piece?"

Hermione looked shocked that he would ask her that.

"Enough with the looks, you're making me look ridiculous. And I think I have a right to know if you've seen or handled a man's dick before, seeing as you're off to hold mine!"

"I-"

"And little boys don't count…"

"No. Okay? I've never seen a man's…" she just nodded, unable to say the last word.

Fred buried his face in his hands, trying his best to pull his thoughts together.

"Okay… so there's no way around it. But you've got to follow the rules."

"Rules?" Hermione laughed.

"Yes. I'm serious. There are rules of conduct. I'm sure women have them too. There are many unwritten rules of Man Law. You can't just go into a men's room without being prepared."

Hermione looked at him as though he must be playing a joke.

"I'm serious. Now listen. When you go in, there's the rule of three, which applies to all Hogwarts restrooms. If there are three or more urinals, you have to keep at least one stall down from anyone else. Never go to a urinal right next to another guy. And NEVER look at another bloke's piece… hell, never look at another bloke when he's in the room at all!"

"What kind of girl do you take me for? Thinking I'm going to be looking-"

"You said you've never seen a guy's prick before. I'm just assuming you're at least a little curious. Anyway… when you're done, hmm..." He seemed to be really struggling with having to explain this kind of thing. He could not at all believe that he was saying this…and to Hermione. He had found himself in many embarrassing situations in his life, but none like this. "See… guys don't use toilet paper after taking a piss. So you gotta shake it."

"What?"

He sighed and covered his eyes. "You know… after you go there'll be a drip at the tip, you gotta shake it. Shake it once. If it's not dry then you can shake it twice," Hermione chuckled as she saw Fred demonstrating with her body, holding an imaginary dick in front of her pleated skirt and showing her how to shake it. "But never shake it more than twice. Three times or more and you're playing with yourself… or myself… or… you get it." Fred finally looked up at Hermione who was trying to contain her laughter. "Oh shut up and get on with it! But be right back here. There's a lot more to go over."

It was Hermione's turn to feel embarrassed. It was funny to think of how uncomfortable Fred was that she would see and touch his body. If she was honest with herself, she was a little uncomfortable about seeing him and showering as him, but not like Fred was. It wasn't until she thought about it the other way around that she understood his feelings. The thought of Fred using the toilet as her – the thought of him rubbing soap all over her body in the shower made her feel extremely embarrassed and self-conscious. She felt her cheeks getting hot.

"What?" asked Fred.

"While we're on the topic of using the toilet…" Hermione's blush increased and she could even feel the heat in her reddening ears. "Make sure you wipe front to back."

Fred gave her an insufferable smirk that looked very out of place on her face. It was nice to see he wasn't the only one suffering humiliation. "Don't worry, love. You follow Man Law and I'll make sure I don't get shit in your pussy when I wipe."

Hermione was suddenly fuming again. Her fists shook at her sides. He had no right to poke fun at her like that! "You! Why must you be so… vulgar?!" She turned on her heel and walked quickly out of the dorm, slamming the door behind her.

Fred wasn't at all concerned about her anger, but he really wished that she would stop making him look so girlish.

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**That was fun. I hope you liked!**

**If you liked it even a little, please send a little love via a review!  
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	3. Truce?

**Okay, like this story isn't confusing enough, I thought it'd be interesting to start this chapter from an outsiders view. To make this easier, I put the outsider view in italics. So in italics - 'Fred' is referring to Fred's body (Hermione) and 'Hermione' is referring to Hermione's body (Fred). Don't hate me.**

**Super thanks again to Binka Fudge! She was great in helping me with the transitions in perspective and absolutely amazing when it comes to refining my ideas. You're the best!

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_The next morning, Fred sat for breakfast at the Gryffindor table. He sat rather straighter than he normally did. And that wasn't the only change in his appearance. His white shirt was tucked neatly into his trousers and his Gryffindor tie wasn't crooked and loose, it was tight and straight as it was meant to be. George and the other boys around him had not failed to notice the difference. But Fred was too busy to notice the stares. He took another bite of the apple in his hand and returned to poring over the potions book in front of him. His attention was only pulled away upon hearing the name Hermione. _

_Fred looked down the Gryffindor table and choked on his apple. This might have been Hermione, but she looked even more out of character than Fred. George, Lee, Harry, Ron and Seamus were all gaping openly, their half eaten breakfasts forgotten. _

"_Morning," Hermione greeted sleepily, plopping into a chair next to Fred and piling her plate high with scrambled eggs and sausages at a speed that suggested they were going out of fashion._

_"Rough night, Hermione?" Seamus asked, the only one of the boys brave enough or stupid enough to speak. Hermione however, looking as though she were in the late stages of a one man egg eating contest, apparently didn't hear him. Harry, knowing it was best not to provoke Hermione's ire and that if there was anything important she'd tell he and Ron about it later, gave the others a pointed look and drew them into a discussion about the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend. _

_Making sure that everyone was now minding their own business, Fred nudged Hermione sharply, knocking a fork full of eggs into her lap accidentally on purpose. For a split second she looked as though she were about to explode, then with perfect composure, said "You do know that is a waste of good food, don't you?" _

_Fred's eyes widened threateningly, and he muttered under his breath so that nobody would overhear. "Close your legs, you're showing the room my knickers."_

_After a split second, during which a flicker of defiance crossed Hermione's face, she grudgingly complied. Then, studying Fred more closely, taking in his neat attire, healthy breakfast and potions book with acute disdain, she opened her mouth to berate him but never got the chance._

"_Hey, Hermione?" Fred asked in a mildly interested tone. "I had a question about the potion for your independent study…"_

"_Oh, you mean you're actually interested?" she replied scornfully, irritated at the change in subject._

"_Yeah, actually. I wondered if you had a minute to explain part of it." Fred glanced at the door. _

"_Oh," said Hermione suddenly catching on. "Yeah, sure." Fred stood abruptly and marched across the hall, impatiently waiting for Hermione at the door, while she stopped to bundle up her forgotten sausages in a napkin._

As soon as they were out of range of the Great Hall, their feuding began.

"What the hell did you do to me?!" Hermione cried, looking at the poor job Fred did dressing her.

"What do you mean? These are your clothes…"

She whimpered.

"Don't do that! I don't whimper. Scoff or grumble if you must, but don't whimper," insisted Fred.

"Fine. But look at yourself… I mean me… and mean _that_!" she said gesturing to the way Fred had dressed her. "One of my socks is scrunched down, my shirt's not buttoned all the way, it isn't even tucked in! And my tie is crooked." After pausing to take a well needed breath, eyes once again scanning her own body in such disarray widened in disbelief. "You're not wearing a bra?!" She quickly reached between them and pulled the school robe closed over her front.

"I couldn't get it on," Fred explained.

"That surprises me, from what I've heard, you're very well acquainted with them. You have no problem getting them off, is it really so difficult to -"

"Ouch! You don't have to be like that," he said, truly offended.

"And sweet Merlin's bald patch… look at my hair." Hermione almost sobbed.

"You never care about your hair." He retorted indignantly.

"I do to! I don't do much with it, but honestly!" Hermione gestured wildly in the direction of the tangled mess hanging to one side and tied with a ribbon .

"It kept getting in my face so I attempted a ponytail," explained Fred. Hermione elbowed him to stop him from speaking.

Lee Jordan passed them in the hallway and Hermione smiled and waved. After a doubletake and a fleeting look of puzzlement, he turned the corner and Fred rounded on her, glaring in disbelief.

"Did you just _wave_ at him?" he asked incredulously.

"Well, he is your best friend, right?" Hermione said slightly confused.

"Aaaahhh!" Fred grabbed his brown bushy hair in frustration. "You're so observant, I thought this would be okay… but you… guys don't wave at each other in passing! Maybe to get attention from afar, but never in passing. That's a girl thing."

"What are you talking about?"

"Man Law! Only pansies wave at other guys in the hall. If you feel like you need to greet in passing then you give a little nod of acknowledgement. Nod down for acquaintances and strangers, up is okay for close friends. Just please don't wave," Fred pleaded.

"I think you're being ridiculous…" said Hermione simply.

"I don't care what you think. No waving at guys. No waving at girls either. Even you can understand that if a guy waves to a girl in the hall it can be interpreted as flirting and that's the last thing we need to contend with at the moment."

They traversed the next three floors in frustrated silence before Fred sighed in defeat and broke the ice.

"I'm sorry for getting uptight… I know this is hard," he said.

"I'm sorry too…" said Hermione. "I guess there's a lot that I don't know about guys…"

"So did you, uh," Fred cleared his throat. "Did you shower this morning?"

"No," said Hermione, looking down at her large feet as she walked. "I didn't think I was ready for that yet." She looked up at him nervously.

"Me neither… Coconut delight." he said quietly.

Hermione looked confused by Fred's last two words and startled when she remembered that it was the password to the common room; they were already on the seventh floor and standing in front of the portrait hole. The Fat Lady remained speechless as she swung open, perhaps at the sight of the two least likely companions in Gryffindor tower walking so close together.

Hermione looked up and took a deep breath as she opened the door to the seventh year boys' dormitories.

"_Accio_ Hermione's Bra," said Hermione clearly. Her bra floated to her through the air and she handed it to Fred before closing the door to the dorm.

"Hope none of your dorm mates saw that." Fred looked rather concerned.

"If they did, they'll probably think you're stealing my underwear for some prank or other," Hermione said offhandedly.

"You know, I'm getting a bit sick of these comments, you're acting like I'm some kind of pervert," he said sounding rather hurt.

Hermione stopped straightening out the bra and looked up and sighed when she realised he wasn't joking. "Alright, I'll do my best, but you have to promise the same."

"What have I said? I never said anything!"

"'Always the library?' 'Going to report me, Granger?' 'Probably has a mean punch from all the times her hand shoots up.'? You say quite a lot. It'd be nice if, just for once, somebody would see me as more than a bloody know-it-all." She turned away and looked to be studying the bra so intently that Fred let out an involuntary snort. She spun back around eyes blazing and he took a hasty step back.

"Sorry." he said sheepishly. "It's just I never thought I'd see myself examining a bra so thoroughly." She stared for just a moment, then burst out laughing. "Truce?" Fred asked, a little more confidently.

"Truce." She said, coming closer and shaking hands. "Now then, take off your shirt."

"Wow, this is awkward…" said Fred.

"Awkward for you? Those are my breasts you're touching…" Both of them blushed deeply. "See, now you put it on backward and upside down, then once it's latched you turn it around and flip it up. There." She said. She stepped back to look at it. "Now you just need to adjust." Without hesitation she slipped a hand into the cup of the bra and positioned the breast. Fred flinched and quickly pulled away.

"What?" asked Hermione in surprise.

"Nothing…"

"No, What?"

"Nothing… you just can't touch my breast like that…" Fred gulped anxiously.

"Well excuse me, but they are _my_ breasts."

"For now they're mine and it's turning me on, so I'd like it if you didn't do that." Fred said in frustration, his cheeks bright red.

"Oh God, that's so wrong…"

"Tell me about it. How would you feel if I touched my dick right now?" Fred asked defensively.

Hermione's cheeks turned bright red and she felt heat racing to her groin just at the thought. "Let's just hurry and teach each other to dress properly and get out of here." she squeeked.

"All for it," said Fred, positioning his other breast.

Once Hermione had redressed Fred a little more neatly, which took quite a while because he kept fidgeting with the bra straps and tightly knotted tie, she gave him a few tips on managing wild, curly hair and checked her watch. "Oh no! I'm going to be late for potions!"

"Actually, you're going to be late for charms." Fred said calmly, handing her his timetable and pointing at it. "But don't worry, it's expected and please don't ruin my rep' by being too perfect."

"Oh my, they're all N.E.W.T. classes, I've not prepared for any of these, I haven't even got any of the books!"

"You're surprisingly dense for someone so smart," Fred said exasperated "You'll have all my books and I'll take yours." Hastily adding, "And don't worry about it being N.E.W.T. level, George and I only try for Acceptable in most classes, you'll be fine. "

Switching bags, Fred struggling with the excessive weight of Hermione's books with his temporarily small stature, they made for the stairs to the common room. Just as they reached the portrait hole and separated, Hermione heading for the stairs and N.E.W.T. charms and Fred reaching for a tapestry that'd get him to O.W.L. potions ahead of time, he remembered. "Oy, Herm-...Fred!" he bellowed down the hall "Loosen your tie and pull your shirt out!"

_'It'll be a miracle if we can pull this off for an entire week,_' he thought as he watched himself give an indignant huff and dishevel the obsessively neat uniform. '_A bloody miracle_,' he repeated disgustedly as he watched Hermione give a hugely exaggerated, sarcastic wave before disappearing down the stair well.

* * *

**LoL - I love writing this story.**

LDeetz- I think it's actually funny how I learned about 'Man Law' A couple years ago I was in a restaurant with my Hubby and brother and my brother came back from the restroom. When asked what took him so long, he told us that there was a guy at the middle urinal. My hubby agreed "that's just wrong" I asked what the offense was and they told me about the rule of three and that the guy who took the middle urinal meant that my brother waited from a distance, not willing to take a urinal right next to the guy, until the guy had zipped up. LOL I asked about other rules and now, every time they think of one, they let me in on it. Just last week I was listening to "Anthem" by Good Charlotte and in the lyrics it says "shake it once, that's fine, shake it twice, that's okay, shake it three times, you're playing with yourself again." Hubby asked "Do you know what that means?" then he explained. It was that explanation and the reminder of "Man Law" that inspired this story. So everyone thank Good Charlotte. ^^

**Please Review! It's reviews that give me the motivation I need when I get writers' block, which I have... Motivate me!**


	4. Supersensory Peeping

Hermione walked through the empty hallway and stopped outside of the Charms classroom. She took a deep breath and slowly opened the door. She had never before been late to class, but Fred adamantly insisted that she show up six minutes late, no more, no less.

Professor Flitwick looked irritated at her late arrival, but not at all surprised. Hermione felt absolutely terrible, but kept indifferent smile fixed firmly in place as she took a seat next to George. Professor Flitwick continued his talk on Supersensory Charms. Hermione glanced at George and Lee out of the corner of her eye. She took in their stature and their expressions and tried her best to imitate. She slouched back in her chair with her arm draped over its back, and spread her legs open, making her feel very exposed and self-conscious. She turned her attention to Professor Flitwick and paid close attention to what he was saying, even though her face maintained an expression of boredom. She had never studied any N.E.W.T. level spells before and was rather intimidated.

"Now then," concluded Professor Flitwick. "I would like all of you to pair up. One of you will face the wall and cast the supersensory charm to see what your partner is doing. Try facial expressions or holding up fingers. I'll be coming around to test you myself."

George stood up and Hermione followed suit. There was no need to worry about a partner in this case, Fred and George always worked together.

"I call the wall first," said George, smiling mischievously. "This should be fun."

George put his nose toward the cold stone wall and Hermione stood behind him. It felt so odd that she was the same height as him. Usually she only came up to his shoulder. It was the first time she noticed that he had a mole hidden behind his left ear.

"Alright, Freddy…" George said, pulling out his wand.

Hermione thought quickly. What would Fred do? It felt so wrong, but she did the first thing she could think of. As soon as he cast the charm, she held up her middle finger in a rude gesture. She felt uncomfortable, but held a steady smirk.

"Same to you," chuckled George. Hermione felt relieved. It was no less than George had expected. She thought again quickly as George ended the charm and prepared himself again. Think Fred. Think Fred. She wasn't one to cut up and be so playful. She was always so self-conscious and introverted. George cast the charm again and Hermione crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue. George laughed and dropped the charm, turning the same face on her. She couldn't help but laugh. It was actually rather fun. The third time she pretended to pick her nose, to which George asked "Find anything good?"

Professor Flitwick quietly came around and took Hermione's place without announcing himself. He held up three fingers as a test. "Professor… have you been working out?"

"You've noticed?" asked Professor Flitwick, completely taken by George's charm.

"Yes, sir."

"Why thank you, and excellent charm, ," commended Professor Flitwick.

'_Yeah, he certain knows how to work his charm,'_ Hermione thought to herself, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Noticed?" George whispered to Hermione. "We sure did. I still can't get that image of him in that aerobics outfit out of my head."

Hermione laughed. She could only imagine what Fred and George were doing when they found Flitwick in an aerobics costume.

"One more time, then you can have a go," offered George.

For lack of inspiration, Hermione made another silly face, but George did not reply. She held the face a little longer than she would have liked before letting it drop. "George?"

"Shh…" said George.

Hermione looked at him curiously.

"Angelina's knickers are riding up…" George explained in a whisper.

"George!" Hermione admonished.

"What? She's my girlfriend. I've seen her knickers before," he turned around with a smirk. "Okay, you have a go now. But you better not be checking my Angelina. I'm always curious about Katie's knickers though, ever since we stole those purple ones with pawprints…"

Hermione faced the wall and slowly took out Fred's battered Black Alder wand. It felt cold and foreign to her, not at all like her own Vinewood wand. Though they were about the same length, this one felt much smaller in Fred's large hand. And through it was very solid and unyielding, it was surprisingly very light.

She took a deep breath and quietly uttered the spell. Her vision became slightly blurred, but nothing more happened. She ended the charm and tried again, but to the same effect. She knew this might be difficult for her, but she couldn't help feeling that she should have been doing better. Frustrated, she tried again.

"C'mon, Fred. I can't hold like this all day," said George.

His comment only served to frustrate her more. She concentrated extremely hard on the spell and was surprised to see that her vision had changed. Though it was not clear and not where she wanted to see, at least she was getting somewhere.

"C'mon, Fred. You're just doing this to annoy me, aren't you?" said George.

Hermione tried to think of something to say. It was obvious that George expected her to know how to do this. "You know…" she said in a voice of forced amusement. "That Hufflepuff bloke has a serious unibrow…"

"Which one?" said George, turning around to face the room. "You mean that Crawford kid?"

Hermione took the time he was distracted to practice a couple more times.

"Did you get a look at Katie's knickers yet?" he asked.

"I'm not sure Angelina would appreciate your devoted interest in Katie's knickers," Hermione deflected playfully.

"Well, _I'm_ not looking," said George, crossing his arms and leaning against the stone wall next to her. "I just know it's been quite awhile since you've got a good look at a pair."

Hermione looked at him in surprise.

"I'm worried about you, brother. You need to find yourself a girl, mate," said George seriously.

Hermione didn't know how to respond to this, but luckily the sound of the bell saved her from having to. But George had seen her hesitation. He followed her to the table where they picked up their schoolbags.

"Just let me set you up with that Hufflepuff girl this weekend. We'll double-date at the Three Broomsticks… They say she's nice, and if she turns out to have dung for brains, at least you have something nice to look at for an afternoon. What do you say?"

"I'll have to pass…" said Hermione. If she was going to be Fred for the weekend, she was not going to be spending an afternoon flirting with some girl.

Potions class actually went much better than she had hoped. Both she and Fred were talented when it came to potions, so she didn't have to worry about struggling or dumbing him down. She made sure to act as much like Fred as she could, never raising her hand, sitting up straight, or looking too attentive. But she also didn't have to try and be playful either. Fred and George didn't act out in Snape's class as much as their others. She was extremely proud of herself at the end of class when she turned in a perfectly brewed N.E.W.T. level potion.

Her stomach growled loudly, and Lee's stomach echoed its complaint. "Hurry up, you two. I'm starving," groaned Lee, taking the lead as they head up the stairs toward the entrance hall.

Hermione rubbed her angry stomach. So this was what the infamous Weasley appetite felt like. No wonder they were so grumpy when they were late to a meal.

Hermione sat down at the Gryffindor table next to George and quickly began filling her plate.

"_Meat, potatoes, and more meat,"_ Fred's instructions repeated in her head_. "Fat and carbs. And none of that whole grain stuff."_

Her plate looked just like Fred's would. She ate quicker than usual, feeling as though she would never be satiated.

About ten minutes later her attention was caught by the sound of her own angry voice echoing through the Great Hall. She looked up and saw her own body walking moodily up the Gryffindor table, talking over her shoulder at Ron who looked cross.

"You know, you could try taking your own notes, Ronald! You shouldn't have to rely on me," Fred shot at him.

"But you know I'm not good at taking notes, Hermione. And it's impossible for me to pay attention to Binns… the way he drones on and on," said Ron.

Hermione smiled to herself. She was glad to see that Fred was playing her so well.

"I'm not responsible for you. So stop expecting me to listen on your behalf," Fred said, sitting down across from Hermione.

"But you're always talking about how important our O.W.L.'s are. Don't you want me and Harry to do well? And how do you expect to do well when you're sleeping through class?"

Hermione choked on a piece of chicken. Her appreciation for Fred turned into raging resentment. She had been putting forth great effort to act like Fred and he was sleeping in class!

"You okay, Fred?" Ginny asked. Hermione realized that her eyes had narrowed and her teeth were clenched.

"Stomach-ache," she replied.

Fred did not miss the look on her face. He suddenly looked guilty as he began slowly filling his plate. He took extra care in selecting his food, hoping to make choices that would please Hermione. Just as he had given her instructions on what to eat, she had demanded that he keep a healthy diet for her. He smiled at her hopefully, but she kept her expression of forced indifference. She didn't look happy; no doubt she'd have a few choice words to share with him later.

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**Thanks to all of you who review! You're the greatest! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I'll try to have the next up tomorrow night.**

**Please Review!**


	5. Play It Right

Fred followed Harry and Ron into the empty Transfiguration classroom and up to the front of the class to what he assumed were their usual seats. He slung Hermione's heavy schoolbag on the back of the chair and chanced a glance at the two boys. Both of them still looked slightly irritated from the way he nagged them to hurry to class. He insisted that they arrive five minutes early. He slowly took his seat and began arranging his book, notebook, quill and ink on the desk in front of him. He positioned himself in a stature of pride and grace, sitting up straight and gently crossing his delicate ankles under the chair. He smoothed his skirt and took a deep breath. He was determined to play Hermione to the best of his ability.

He felt incredibly guilty from the look she had given him at lunch. She looked so angry and disappointed with him. She felt that he had disgraced her reputation and he couldn't help but agree. He felt even more guilty as he watched her efforts. She played him well. She was laughing and cracking jokes with George and was even seen enthusiastically talking over their Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes notebook. She even sat like him. She was seriously trying her best and he felt like he had really been letting her down. This morning he kept telling himself that she deserved the way he was acting; this was her fault after all. But he had changed his mind along the way and realised that this was just as difficult for her as it was for him.

The class filled quickly, most students making it through the door only seconds before the bell rang. Professor McGonagall stood in front of the class and began a long speech about the fundamentals of Vanishing Spells. Fred remained painfully attentive, taking thorough notes so that Hermione could practice later, his hand shooting into the air each time Professor McGonagall posed a question. He was even awarded five points for Gryffindor, a rare but not altogether unpleasant experience, because he'd apparently given an answer worthy of a N.E.W.T. student. Fearing he would give the game away if he kept slipping up like that, he vowed to curb his enthusiasm a little, but far from being surprised, McGonagall just commented that she wished more of her students would read ahead. This earned him a rather heated glare from Ron, but it was worth it, he thought, to be able to tell Hermione she had more house points to her name.

Upon Professor McGonagall's instruction Fred's hand reached inside Hermione's robes and removed her wand, examining the intricately carved piece of Vinewood with interest. Though it felt warm and comfortable in his dainty fingers, it also felt out of place and strangely unfamiliar. The wood felt a little too smooth and maybe a bit long. He gave it a small wave and it felt almost springy. He forcefully removed his thoughts from these speculations and returned his attention to the Professor, who was now informing the class that they'd be attempting to vanish snails today, keeping one eye on Lavender Brown who was squeamishly handing round a medium sized box.

Fred smirked at the snail on the desk in front of him. He had already done this exercise two years prior and didn't even need instruction then. Vanishing spells were one of his specialties. He mastered them out of need. He often vanished things at the Burrow. He and George recognized the sound of Mrs. Weasley's approach outside their room well. For two years now, no one had suspected their warning system; Nobody seemed to notice that the stair just below the second floor landing only creaked for Mrs. Weasley. That small sound was their cue to vanish all evidence of their mischievous plots.

Fred felt relieved that Hermione was such a talented witch. He would not be forced to attempt to perform the spell incorrectly. Although he wouldn't flick his wand quite as lazily as he usually did, it would not look at all out of the ordinary for Hermione to properly perform a spell upon her first try.

He glanced at a disgruntled looking Ron and tried to hide his amusement at his little brother's struggle. Fred nudged his snail back into place, as it had slowly begun to creep away, and cast his vanishing spell. He was stunned and confused when the snail's shell turned transparent, but was still quite tangible.

"Oh, you have no right to look so disappointed," Harry said in an irritated tone. Both his and Ron's snails had not made any change after several tries.

"Yeah," growled Ron. "It makes you look haughty. No one likes a snob, Hermione."

Fred was a little surprised at their reactions. He had never heard Harry and Ron speak to Hermione like that. It seemed rather harsh. His eyebrows furrowed in frustration and he decided to ignore them. He concentrated a little harder and attempted the spell again. This time the snail had vanished, but the transparent shell remained. He glared resentfully at Hermione's wand, wondering if there if there was something possibly wrong with it or if it just didn't work properly for him; surely, it couldn't be him. Seeing that Professor McGonagall was heading their way and realising her lesson wasn't a sensible place to contemplate ones thoughts, Fred thought _'third time's a charm'_, before putting every ounce of determination he had into vanishing the remaining shell.

"Very impressive, Miss Granger," commended Professor McGonagall. Fred forced an appreciative smile though he still felt upset that it took him three tries. Professor McGonagall waved her wand, giving him another snail to practice on. This time, he vanished the snail in one attempt, though it still took more effort than it should have. Fred received scowls from Ron and Harry at his success which he felt were not at all justified. He knew that there were many times that Ron was unfair to Hermione, but after sharing classes with him all day, he wondered why she ever put up with him at all. At the bell, he bounded from the room with more excitement than he should, leaving Ron and Harry behind. Classes were done, dinner was approaching, and he could finally relax a little.

"So, What? You're not talking to us now?" asked Ron as Fred took a seat at the Gryffindor table.

A moment of silence passed before Harry let out an exasperated sigh. "Look, you know we didn't mean it."

Hermione had every intention of sneaking a glare at Fred when he sat down, but instead looked curious and concerned. The look that Fred wore was all too familiar to her. He was genuinely irritated with Harry and Ron.

"It just gets annoying when you show us up," explained Ron, although this didn't seem at all what Harry wanted to say. It may have been how he felt, but he tried hard not to upset Hermione. "We know you're talented, but you don't have to rub it in our faces."

Fred looked incredulously at Ron. "I did not shove anything in your face! I didn't say anything. I didn't even look at you! You're the one with the problem. I just tried my best. It's not my fault that you struggle. Don't try to make me feel bad for doing well."

"I don't care that you do well. It's the way you act like it's horrible when you don't get it right on your first try," Ron said angrily.

"Those are standards I set for myself! I never looked down on you," said Fred.

"Oh, and that haughty proud smile of yours isn't looking down on us?" accused Ron.

"No! There's absolutely nothing wrong with me taking a little pride in doing something well! And I don't look haughty!" yelled Fred. He finished fixing his sandwich and stood up. "I'm going to the library!" he announced, taking his sandwich with him.

"Can you believe her?" Ron asked. Harry just shrugged his shoulders. Hermione watched the entire exchange uncomfortably. It felt strange to watch herself bickering with Ron and Harry from this perspective. Fred had not been acting but still reacted exactly as she would have. It felt like she herself were arguing and Fred was there taking her side. She took one last bite of her dinner and finished the contents of her goblet before standing.

"Where are you going?" George asked.

"Oh, I'm finished," she said. She had completely forgotten about George. She was too busy thinking about going to find Fred. "I'm going to the library."

All surrounding eyes fell on her in disbelief. "The library?" asked George, his eyebrows furrowed, while everyone else's rose almost to their hair lines.

"Yeah," said Hermione. She thought quickly for her excuse. "I agreed to help Hermione with her independent study for potions, seeing as how I messed up her last one…"

George and Harry chuckled. Ron was still disgruntled. But Hermione found Ginny's reaction to be the most curious. Ginny wore a funny challenging smirk; Ginny didn't believe her. Hermione pushed this thought aside and went to the library.

Hermione found Fred sitting alone at a table in the back of the library, running his fingers through his long brown hair in frustration.

"Why do you put up with them?" he asked heatedly at her approach.

She knew that he was angry, but was taken aback when he aimed it at her. "They're good guys…" she answered quietly.

"Not to you, they're not," said Fred. This stung Hermione. She appreciated Fred standing up for her the way he did, but it hurt the way he accused her friends of being cruel to her. "I mean, I always knew they got on you, but I had always believed that you probably did something to deserve it. But they hassle you and blame you when you don't even do anything."

Hermione's chest tightened and she felt herself pout a little. She didn't want to think about this. They were her friends, the only friends that she ever really had. They may not always be kind to her, but they were there for her when she needed them and they stood up for her when someone insulted her.

Fred frowned at the pained expression on her face. He didn't mean to upset her. "I'm sorry… I shouldn't have… I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she said quietly, finally taking the seat across from him. "To an outside observer, it does look that way, but Harry's normally more frustrated with his own shortcomings than at my success." she hesitated "And Ron, well..." but she didn't finish. Finally she said "But really, it's okay."

"No. I mean it. And I'm sorry about sleeping in History of Magic as well. Now… homework." Fred opened her schoolbag and pulled out her books and notebooks. "You already do well with potions, so you really don't need to worry much over what we did in class, which was Calming Draughts, by the way. I should have saved some for Ron… But anyway. You got good marks- perfect potion today. But you need to do an essay on the properties of moonstone, due a week from today. As you know, I didn't take notes in History, but I did take a few minutes before dinner to make some notes from the book. And you started Vanishing Spells in Transfiguration." He handed Hermione her Transfiguration notebook that was filled with well organized notes on the day's work.

"I-I…" Hermione was speechless. She had every intention on telling Fred off about not trying hard enough, and she had nothing to say. He completely surprised her in every way. His notes were perfect and all of her assignments were clearly defined.

"Oh, and I started your essay on Vanishing Spells because I had time in class. But if you would rather start over…"

"No," Hermione interrupted. "Fred… thank you."

Fred gave her a warm genuine smile that made Hermione blush. He had done well. He had really surprised her. Now for the cherry on the iced bun. "Oh and you won five points for Gryffindor because you knew the model and calculations for an advanced vanishing spell. And don't worry," he continued as he caught the look on her face, "Old Minnie just thought you'd been reading ahead." Realising she was a little overwhelmed, he deftly changed the subject. "Here. Give me my wand," he said, holding out his hand.

"Why not use mine?" asked Hermione, latching onto the new topic with relief and a hint of suspicion.

"Because it doesn't like me," Fred stated simply. His fingers curled in beckoning for his wand, which Hermione relinquished with a funny disbelieving smile. "You don't believe me." he accused playfully.

"It's a wand, Fred. It just enhances a person's magical ability. My wand works just fine," Hermione stated.

"It works fine for you," he said with emphasis. "But it took me three tries and more concentration than it should to cast a spell that I use easily all the time."

"I think it's just in your head," she chuckled.

"Oh yeah? And how's my wand working for you?" he asked, smirking faintly.

"Well… I was doing N.E.W.T. level spells…" Hermione reasoned.

Fred's smirk grew. "Okay, then try an easy one," he challenged, handing Hermione his wand again. "Wingardium Leviosa."

Hermione smirked and shook her head. She raised Fred's Black Alder wand. She directed a well executed swish and flick at a bottle of ink. It shuddered and gradually lifted into the air in a shaky pattern. Hermione scowled at it in disbelief. Her concentration slipping, the bottle fell to the floor and smashed upon impact. "But why?" she said in irritation.

Taking back his wand and now with no hint of amusement evident in his face or voice, Fred said, "Because the wand chooses the wizard. It knows you're not me." After waving his wand at the spilled ink to clean up the mess, he handed Hermione her wand. Seeing her puzzled expression he explained, "You'll want to practice. But we'll have to switch back for tomorrow," and she nodded in understanding. "So how did you do today?" he asked.

Looking up from the copious transfiguration notes he'd given her, having started to scan them for the new incantation and wand movements, she beamed. "Well, I think. I had problems in charms with supersensory charms, but it may have been the wand. But George and I had fun. He tried to get me to look at Katie's knickers though…"

Fred burst out laughing. "Did you?"

"No! Of course not!" said Hermione, surprised that he would ask. "And, even though they're dating, I don't think he should have been peeking at Angelina's. Oh, and George is trying to set you up with some Hufflepuff for this Hogsmeade weekend."

"He's been trying to set me up with someone every other day. What did you say?" Fred asked, half exasperated, half amused.

"No, of course. I'm still going to be you this weekend and I'm not going on a date with a girl!" she said, wrinkling her nose.

"And what if I asked you?" said Fred, genuinely interested.

"What?" Hermione asked in confusion.

"I'm a girl. What if I asked you to go with me?" Fred repeated.

"I-uh…" Hermione blushed deeply.

Fred smirked at her discomfort. "What else are you going to do this weekend? George and Lee have dates. And it would look weird if you decided to tag along with Harry and Ron. Come with me."

"And that wouldn't look strange?" Hermione challenged.

"Not as strange as Fred Weasley walking around on his own," Fred stated. "And you act like I'd never want to be seen with you… I think we could have a good time."

"Okay…" agreed Hermione. She smiled sheepishly as she looked back over her notes.

"Enough with the girly looks, remember?" Fred reminded. After twenty-four hours in Hermione's body, it didn't seem as strange as it had at the start, but he still couldn't stand to see his own face performing feminine expressions.

Grinning wolfishly, Hermione caught his eye and they locked gazes. Fred got the impression that she'd been letting the facade slip on purpose, just to tease him. Not wanting to let her win, he cocked his head to one side, nodded and said "Much better."

After five minutes of comfortable silence, in which Fred let his mind drift to what they might do in Hogsmeade, Hermione spoke. "Fred?"

"Hmmm?" he answered, still half of his mind on his favourite chocoballs from Honeydukes.

"What's this about?" Hermione asked, pointing to a scribbled note in the margin. "Glamour/notice-me-not, ask Hermione?"

Leaning forward and looking to where she was pointing, he squinted and then remembered. "Oh, it was just something I thought might work with our wands, you know, so we could use our own without anyone detecting a change." The sudden comprehension that dawned on her face was quickly replaced with mounting excitement. To Fred, it was like watching George when they found the long looked for antidote to a troublesome skiving snackbox.

"You're brilliant, Fred!" she almost squealed, leaping up and hugging him. "Pure genius!" And as he watched her rush off in between the stacks, he couldn't help but realise, that this time, he hadn't minded her girlish behaviour one bit.

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**Thanks again to Binka Fudge for her help in editing and spicing up my writing.**

**Thanks to all of your who review!**

**Reviews = Love**

**I need lovin'!  
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	6. Naked Truth

Fred sat bolt upright in bed next morning, panting, sweating and his heart going sixty to the dozen. For a split second he felt certain that it had all been a crazy nightmare, the frequent library visits, the bras and skirts and being referred to as Miss Granger in every lesson, but as he looked down at himself and saw the lacy edge of a powder blue night dress and a mass of tangled brown curls fell into his face, it all just became frighteningly real once more. He was a girl. He heaved a great sigh and pushed the hair back with two dainty, feminine hands. Slowly he turned and pulled back the hangings of his four-poster and stood on the cold hardwood floor. He looked up and gasped. Right in front of him were Parvati and Lavender wrapped only in bath towels, their long hair hanging wet and heavy down their backs. Fred turned away quickly, blushing furiously. He began digging through Hermione's bedside cabinet, pretending to be looking for something. A book – perfect.

He took the thin leather book and sat back on Hermione's bed. All he had to do was read until they were dressed. He opened the book to the first page and was surprised to see that it was all hand written. The small loopy script was Hermione's hand. Curiously, he began to read.

_31 October, 1991_

_I've been so busy with the first few weeks of school that it is only now that I have found time to write. Well… the first time I've felt the need to write. This was the worst day of school so far. I hate Ronald Weasley! He is such an arrogant prat! Like I didn't already know that no one here likes me, he had to say it out loud. I was just trying to help him during class, because mum says you should always help others if you're able and he goes and tells his friends what a 'nightmare' I am. Am I? Am I just a stuffy know-it-all like everyone says? I know people scoff at me when I raise my hand in class, but is that really a reason not to like me? I'm only trying to do my best, dad always says you should. I thought things would be different here, I thought I'd fit in. When I got my Hogwarts letter I was so relieved, it finally made sense why I seemed so far ahead of my peers and why I was always left out of everything, I'm a witch. But nothing's changed, I'm still ahead, I still can't make friends and I'm more alone than ever. At least before I had mum and dad, but they're so far away now and I can't even write them about this because it'd worry them to the point of bringing me home and I don't think I could give magic up now I've got it. I've not even got to the worst part yet. I spent the rest of the day crying in the bathroom because I felt so humiliated and then, to top it all off, I was cornered by a mountain troll. I couldn't think what to do because I was absolutely terrified and my brain seemed to freeze. Even though Ron Weasley helped rescue me, I can't help feeling a little resentful, I mean he knocked the troll out with it's own club, using the levitation charm I'd helped him with in class, I mean talk about things going full circle. I even lied to Professor McGonagall and lost points for Gryffindor, just to get him and Harry Potter out of trouble, I haven't the foggiest idea what I was thinking! But hopefully things will be better between the three of us now, maybe we can settle for a lack of open hostility, or perhaps even friends? It's flying lessons tomorrow, and I know it'll be a disaster! I do hope Ron's terrible at it too, I'd feel so much better about it if he weren't gloating._

Fred gulped. This was Hermione's diary. He shouldn't be reading it. His heart raced as he stared at the first page. He knew he shouldn't, but he was extremely tempted to read more. Hermione was always such an enigma, but he felt he knew her so much better after that one short entry. _It had been a few years since then though, did she still feel that way?_ he wondered, _a missfit, alone, someone who doesn't fit in anywhere? _Fred had never ever felt that way, not only was he a twin, but he seemed to pick up friends wherever he went. _Obviously Hermione has friends now, Harry, Neville and all of us Weasleys, _he thought, _but does she really consider us friends, or do we just come with Ron, like a package deal? _He chanced a glance at Parvati and Lavender, who were already dressed and were now fiddling with their hair and looked back at the diary. He chuckled to himself when he realised that the girls would not see anything wrong if he read the diary, after all, it was his… sort of. His foot shook as he thought. Finally giving into temptation, tossing his annoying conscience back into the locked closet at the very back of his mind, where it belonged, he flipped to the most recent entry.

_1 November, 1995_

_They are the limit! I don't know what to do with Fred and George Weasley! They have absolutely no respect for the rules and very little for people. Even through all my warnings, they continue to coax unsuspecting first years into testing their crazy, possibly dangerous, inventions. Tonight I finally stood up to them. I ripped their clipboards away and they just gave me those aggravating sly smiles. I don't know why I ever thought that they would ever listen to me when no one else does. But it's my duty as a prefect to stop such behaviours. They actually laughed at me. They challenged me to try and punish them. How arrogant can you get? Only they would know! I just wanted to reach up and slap those cheeky grins off their faces. Their tune certainly changed when I told them I'd write their mum, but I know that they're only going to find somewhere else to test. Now their going to avoid me like so many others. I had been so excited to become a prefect, but it's only pushed me away from everyone even more. I'm even more the bossy, goodie-two shoes that everyone thinks I am. Sometimes I actually envy Fred and George. They have a freedom I'll never understand – a freedom that I've always longed for. They don't care what people think of them… and yet everyone adores them. I try my hardest to follow the rules and please people and people see me as… I don't know how people see me. Maybe if I did, I could change a little. That look in Fred's eye…_

That look in Fred's eye… what? Fred flipped over the page, hoping for it to be continued but that's where it stopped. Fred glared at the page. He never would have guessed that she felt trapped in the rules that she tried to uphold. She actually envied him… And what about the look in his eye?

Fred closed the book and stuck it in his schoolbag. He would read more later. But for now, he had to prepare for the day. Shoving his feet into the fluffy pink slippers and throwing on the matching dressing gown with a grimace, _why pink_? he shuffled over to the wardrobe and rummaged for a clean uniform. Catching sight of himself in the mirror on the back of the door, he wondered if he studied the reflection long enough, he'd be able to tell what Hermione meant by the look in his eyes. _Ok, technically the eyes weren't his, but the person behind them was Fred Weasley and the eyes are the windows to the soul, right? _

Loud whispers and giggles broke him out of his trance and he spotted Lavender and Parvati behind him, watching curiously. Evidently, Hermione wasn't one to spend hours staring in the mirror. Fred blushed a deep crimson and hurriedly made for the bathroom.

Meanwhile, Hermione gulped and finished removing her boxers. Her eyes were closed. She had seen all parts of Fred's body throughout the day yesterday, but never the entire thing at once. She felt very uncomfortable being completely starkers in his body. She took a deep breath and stepped into the hot shower. Although the spray felt incredibly soothing, she still felt tense. She started with his hair first, slowly shampooing and rinsing. That was innocent enough. She stared at the bar of soap on the shelf. She just had to do it. She lathered the soap on a washcloth then bit her lip. She scrubbed the washcloth over his body at top speed, almost as if the cloth would burn skin if left in one place for more than a second. She did not rub his body to rinse, but allowed the force of the water to do it for her. She sighed proudly as she turned off the water. She had gotten naked and washed and did it all without thinking about his strong broad chest, his soft wet ginger hair, his nicely toned arms, his long lean legs, or his… She gasped when his penis gave a little jump in excitement. Hermione groaned. That was exactly what she wanted to avoid.

"Oi! Freddie! You alright in there?" George called from outside the bathroom door.

"Fine!" Hermione replied. _Think, think, Fred wouldn't just say fine_. "Just makin' sure I'm still the better lookin' twin!" _Oh, well, could've been worse._

"Okey dokey!" came George's highly amused retort, "Just so long as you know I got the brains."

Fourty five seconds later, after a hastily performed drying charm, _no need to touch Fred's body any more than necessary_, and speed dressing, which resulted in Hermione's finally getting the Fred Weasley look perfect, she exited the bathroom and found George leaning casually against the wall holding out her bag. "Thank Merlin! My stomach thinks my mouth's been vanished."

Instantly falling into comfortable banter with George, one of the best things about switching bodies with Fred, Hermione slung her bag over her shoulder, while striding past George, slapping him soundly on his rock hard abs and saying "It's not like you couldn't do with a few missed meals." before sprinting down the stairs and out the portrait hole with him hot on her heals. As she made her way to the Great hall, via three secret shortcuts she'd followed George through yesterday, she couldn't help think that another advantage of the exchange was Fred's physical condition, it was nice for once not to get out of breath or feel a stitch coming on if she broke into more than a brisk walk.

Spotting a flash of red hair coming from behind, Hermione sped up, took a left on entering the great hall and plonked herself down unceremoniously next to Lee Jordan at the Gryffindor table with a "Hello kiddiwinks" to the students at large. By the time George arrived, she'd already finished piling bacon, sausages and scrambled eggs onto her plate. "Alright there, Georgie?" At this, Fred, sitting opposite, looked up. He appeared slightly puzzled and incredibly nervous, his eyes shifting between the two recent arrivals rapidly. He seemed to settle at a wink from Hermione and the all too familiar smirk on George's face.

"Never better, Freddie," he said with emphasis, Fred winced, knowing the sound of payback when he heard it. Hermione however looked distinctly unruffled. "It just took a little longer to get ready this morning, is all," he continued. "I might've been down sooner, only you were taking so long in the bathroom, making love to your reflection, that I couldn't get in to use the facilities." he finished, in a none too quiet voice, while he poured himself some pumpkin juice. Everyone in the immediate vicinity stared openly, while those slightly further away froze, forks and goblets half way to their mouths.

"Nothing wrong with taking pride in ones appearance is there?" Hermione said, spearing a sausage on her fork and trying to recover her playful demeanour, something she found rather difficult considering her own face was now glaring at her from across the table, eyes flashing. Clearly Fred didn't like this turn of events. _Perhaps I should cut down on the banter_, she thought.

"Nothing at all, brother mine," George drawled. _Oh Merlin, please not the drawl_, Fred inwardly groaned. "I was only showing some _brotherly_ concern. You see if I hadn't known you since the womb, I'd swear your behaviour was leaning heavily towards the feminine end of the spectrum." Hermione choked on her mouthful of sausage, Lee thumped her on the back and everyone except Fred burst out laughing. Catching his eye, Hermione knew she had a lot of explaining to do.

"So you guys ready for tonight?" Lee whispered excitedly as the laughter died down and everyone turned back to their breakfasts.

"You bet!" answered George. "I've been looking forward to it ever since Halloween ended. I think we can get it all ready during free period this morning. If not, we'll just skive Transfiguration this afternoon."

Both of them looked expectantly at Hermione. A little blind sided by the abrupt subject change and having no idea what they were planning, she blurted out, "Oh yeah, it will be great!" Hermione's voice was a little shaky but neither of the boys seemed to notice.

"What are you three planning?" Fred asked, knowing much better than Hermione what she would be doing that evening.

"Like we'd tell you, Granger. You'd ruin all the fun," George teased.

Hermione's smile slipped and so did Fred's. He had seen that it hurt her, and despite the fact that she'd done something to cause George to publicly humiliate him, he felt a pang of sympathy, and extreme guilt. For he too had been just as excluding of Hermione as George was being now, not to upset her, but because that was how they'd worked, an enjoyable game of cat and mouse, or so he'd thought at the time.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with it being Guy Fawkes Day, would it?" Fred continued, determined to give Hermione as many hints as possible to save them both a great deal of future embarrassment.

Realisation washed over Hermione suddenly. It was Guy Fawkes Day. And though that didn't mean much in the wizarding world, Hermione had told Fred and George about it over the summer and they had seemed particularly excited about it.

"Remembered, did you?" Hermione said to Fred.

"Well, being muggleborn, it's hard to forget such an exciting holiday. But you three… you're not thinking of starting fires or playing with fireworks are you?" Hermione groaned internally. At least Fred was giving her a warning.

"I like the way your mind works, Granger," said Lee. "Thanks for the ideas!"

"Yeah, we'd thought about fireworks… but mini-bonfires… it's brilliant!" George added, his eyes lit up like Christmas lights.

Hermione tried to look excited but was extremely panicked, trying to figure out a way out of this. She was definitely going to be having words with Fred.

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**PLEASE REVIEW! It means so much!**

**I'll let everyone know now that I'm having problems with my internet. I hope to get it fixed soon, but if I don't know when I'll be able to post next. I still hope to post sometime in the next few days. Wish me luck.**


	7. Gunpowder, Treason, and Plot!

**Yay! My internet connection was fixed! I get to post on time! Hurray!**

**Usually I save notes for after a chapter, but I want to make sure that Guy Fawkes Day is explained for those who are not familiar with it.**

******Guy Fawkes Night** (aka Bonfire night) is a celebration on the night of 5 Novemer. It celebrates the downfall of the Gunpowder Plot of 5 November 1605, where a number of catholic conspiritors, including Guy Fawkes, were attempting to blow up the Houses of Parliament in London. Many celebrations include fireworks and/or bonfires. In some places bonfires are used to burn effigies of Guy Fawkes.  


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Hermione's mind was reeling all through breakfast. There was no way she was going to pull that prank with George and Lee, but she didn't know how to get out of it. She anxiously waited for Fred to finish eating so that they could talk. Seizing her chance, and Fred's arm just after breakfast, she pulled him into a broom closet off the entrance hall.

"You do know if anyone saw us that they'd get completely the wrong end of the wand, don't you?" Fred said amused.

"Fires and Fireworks?!" Hermione yelled, stubbornly ignoring his diversionary tactics.

"Yeah. Brilliant, isn't it?"

"No! And I'm not doing it!"

"But you have to! George and I have been planning it for weeks!" said Fred. "And you're the one that gave us the idea."

"No. I told you about Guy Fawkes Day. I didn't suggest that you set fires!"

"You have to, Hermione," Fred repeated firmly. "George will get suspicious if you don't. And while we're on the subject of George suspecting something, what the hell did you do this morning to make him practically accuse me of being a girl?"

Blushing furiously, Hermione briefly outlined the jibe contest she'd been having with George since he'd called through the bathroom door. Fred was finding it increasingly difficult to keep a straight face and finally conceded that the scene at breakfast had been worth it. "I'll get him back for it though." he muttered, with a sinister grin. "What were you taking so long over in the bathroom?" he asked in a playful tone.

"I was steeling myself to take a shower if you must know." she snapped. "And before you ask anything else," she held up a staying hand "I did the bare minimum, used a drying charm and broke the record for speed dressing. Incidentally, I was trying all day yesterday to get your look just right, even studying George and Lee, but only today, when I put in absolutely no effort, did I do it." she finished, sounding rather peeved.

"That hurt, Hermione" Fred said pouting, "It takes a lot of work to look as good as I do." Watching her expression fade from annoyed to regretful, he could hold his laughter in no longer. "I can't believe you practiced dressing casual..." he wheezed, doubled over and slapping his knees with mirth. After his laughter subsided and he'd succeeded in coaxing a small, but still present, self mocking smile out of Hermione, Fred returned to their original argument. "Listen, Hermione, about the prank -"

"I'll think up a good excuse," assured Hermione.

"No. I have a reputation to uphold. I've been looking forward to this!" he pleaded.

"I can't do it, Fred."

"You said you'd play me well. I'm trying for you. I actually stopped a third year from setting off dungbombs on the fourth floor this morning."

"And I bet you kept them…"

"That's beside the point. I did stop him."

"I-I just can't."

"Why? What do you have to lose?" pushed Fred. "You're not Hermione. You're Fred."

Hermione stared at him, considering what he was saying.

"What's the worst that could happen? You could get caught and I would be the one taking credit. What do you care if I get a few more detentions on my record?" Fred paused, giving her a pleading look. He thought back to her diary. "You need this. Haven't you ever wanted to get into a little mischief? Be spontaneous and reckless? Here's your chance! Go crazy. Take the risk! You have nothing to lose. It won't hurt your reputation or your school record. And you'll be with George and Lee, they'll make sure you take steps to avoid being caught."

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed and she ran a hand through her ginger hair as she considered his request. It really did sound exciting…

"Please." Fred hoped his charm still worked with Hermione's facial expressions.

"Fine," Hermione caved. "Fine. I'll do it. But you better make sure to keep up my reputation too."

"Done!" grinned Fred. "Brilliant! I can't wait to see…"

"Oh, you won't see! You'll be in the Gryffindor tower. You will not risk me getting in trouble by watching."

"Oh, but you're doing it at the end of dinner so the school gets a good show. I'll have a nice seat from the Great Hall. And I'll even bring you up some dinner."

Hermione was now panicked. After hours was one thing, but with so many people around, it would be a lot more likely that they would get caught.

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"C'mon, Fred," George coaxed as he glanced at his watch. "Lee should have just finished decorating the dungeons."

Hermione squatted behind George, both peering around a corner at the open doors of the Great Hall where the majority of the school was eating and chatting loudly. She knew Fred was probably in there waiting impatiently for the fun.

"There's Lee. Ready?" asked Hermione, her chest about to explode with excitement and nerves.

"Wait for the signal…" whispered George. Hermione slipped her hand into the bulging canvas bag at her side. "Remember: two bigguns, then scatter."

"You act like I'm new to this," Hermione teased, although the truth was that this was her first ever prank. "There's the signal…"

Hermione and George reached into their bags and pulled out two large rockets. They took the ends to their mouths and blew hard into them. The rockets glowed, one blue and one green, and they aimed them through the open doors of the Great Hall, as Lee did the same from the other side of the room. They both chuckled as the rockets soared out of their hands. The moment they left their fingers, their hands dived back into the canvas bags, pulling out handfuls of what looked like multicoloured flying saucers – Weasleys' Wildfire Whizbangs. The sound of the first rocket exploding sounded through the Great Hall, followed by gasps and screams. Hermione and George quickly threw more than fifty of the discs over the entire entrance hall. They dropped the bags at their feet and watched for just a moment, ready to dart. Five more rockets sounded in the Great Hall before zooming into the entrance hall. The sound of many chairs moving on the stone floor of the Great Hall signaled the coming of the students. Lee nodded to George from across the hall. Hermione, George, and Lee waved their wands at the many saucers littering the floor which immediately began exploding in a colourful fireworks display. Before they could really enjoy it, George and Hermione turned quickly and began running down the hall.

Hermione could hardly breathe through all her laughing. She stared up at flickering lights near the ceiling. Every few metres a small plain cloth doll body, without any features, hung by a noose and encased in a brilliant flame that did not char it. It was Hermione's own idea, which George and Lee truly admired. She hoped Fred would be as proud. She smiled at George, who broke out in a loud shouting song. She joined in, screaming at the top of her lungs.

_Remember, remember the fifth of November_

_Gunpowder, treason and plot._

_I see no reason, why gunpowder treason_

_Should ever be forgot._

_Remember, remember, the fifth of November,_

_Gunpowder, treason and plot!_

_A stick or a stake for King James' sake_

_Will you please to give us a fagot_

_If you can't give us one, we'll take two;_

_The better for us and the worse for you!_

Hermione gasped and stopped quickly at the sight of Peeves directly in front of them in the hall. His wide grin was full of malice and Hermione just stared at him, wondering what he would do. George just returned the poltergeist's wicked smile.

"I know it's you, you wicked twins! When I get my hands on you…!" a voice echoed just beyond the corner. George and Hermione looked over their shoulders and back at Peeves.

George saluted Peeves and Hermione was surprised to see that Peeves returned the salute and took off in the direction of Filch's yell, screaming his own rhyme.

_Guy, guy, guy_

_Poke him in the eye,_

_Put him on the bonfire,_

_And leave him there to die_

George darted behind a tapestry of Madam Marietta and up a dark narrow passage, Hermione on his heels. Both tried hard to contain their giggles.

They were both exhausted by the time they reached the common room. Lee had gotten there only seconds before them, he too out of breath. They slowly stumbled over to a set of armchairs by the fire and collapsed in exhausted laughter. Slowly their laughter died and they sat back with their eyes closed and wide smiles plastered on their faces.

"So… were you still planning on helping me in the library, or are you too exhausted from your celebration?" Fred asked in a typical Hermione voice. As soon as he was done with dinner, he'd come looking for her.

"Don't act like you didn't enjoy the show," Hermione teased back. "And, yes, I'll give you a hand. Just let me grab my bag."

"You're leaving?" asked George, sounding almost disappointed. Usually after a prank, they sat and went over it in great detail, primarily to see if they could've improved on it, if it gave them any new ideas for products, or to come up with cast iron alibis.

"I told Hermione I'd help her with that study…" She said it like it was an unwelcome obligation, but she couldn't wait to discuss her mischief with Fred. So as soon as Hermione grabbed Fred's bag from the dorm, they both set off to the library.

"You were brilliant," Fred praised as they walked down the moving staircases.

"That was actually a lot of fun. I was so panicked when we ran into Peeves and were almost caught by Filch," squealed Hermione, adrenaline still pumping wildly through her veins.

"Wow… sounds like you really enjoyed yourself," mused Fred, not even bothering to reprimand her for her symptoms of girlish glee. "I really like the burning dolls you came up with."

"How'd you know it was me?"

"I don't know. It just didn't feel like George or Lee," answered Fred. "I'm really proud of you, you know."

Hermione gave him a very funny look at this last statement. "Proud?"

"Yeah," Fred went slightly pink. "You really stepped out. Since I first met you, I thought you needed something like this, at least once. And you were spectacular!"

Hermione blushed uncontrollably. She wasn't used to this kind of praise. Well, not coming from a Weasley twin at any rate, and certainly not for something like this. "Thank you, Fred." she whispered sincerely.

Uncertain how to respond to this, Fred fell back on the old Weasley Twin fail safe, crack a joke. "Anyway, now I know you're more than capable, there's no excuse for you to pull out of any of the other pranks we've got scheduled." Sure that he was now back on firm ground, having seen Hermione's stunned and horrified expression flit across his own features, he added merrily "And perhaps over the summer you can apprentice with myself and George, ready to take our place next year." With that, he looked ready to bolt thinking Hermione would chase him down, but she looked strangely pensive. "You're not actually considering..." Fred asked in confusion.

At this Hermione burst out laughing. "Daydreaming? Yes. Considering? Not a chance. Did you really think you had that much of an effect on me? Just who do you think I am?" She playfully poked him in the ribs, causing him to squirm and join in her laughter, a laughter that died quickly as he began to ponder the playful question she posed.

"I don't know. I'm actually starting to wonder," Fred smiled warmly, staring into his own hazel eyes in hope of a glimpse of the girl hiding behind them. Hermione felt the flutter of butterflies in her stomach and she blushed furiously. Reluctantly she pulled her eyes from his and they slowly continued their march to the library.

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**Hope you enjoyed it. If you did, even a little, please review.**

**Oh, and of course, thanks again to Binka Fudge for all her help! You're the greatest! The whole idea of doing a Guy Fawkes prank was her idea!**


	8. Fierce Protectors

**To answer one of the reviews, I'm not very good a conveying the timeline, even though I have one in my head. They took the potion on Wednesday night. Most of the events, dressing issues, charms class, transfiguration, and library were Thursday. Guy Fawkes Day, including the diary, shower and prank was Friday. And this chapter continues on Friday night. Hope that helps.**

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Eight o'clock rolled around sooner than Fred and Hermione had expected and they found themselves being shooed from the library by a very annoyed Madam Pince. Their homework still unfinished and not prepared to return to a busy common room, they stole away into an empty classroom. Three more hours passed quickly as they worked on their essays and practiced their new spells with their own wands, then each other's. Finally exhausted and well practiced they returned to Gryffindor Tower.

Hermione followed Fred through the portrait hole, a smile from his last joke still in place. The room was nearly empty; only a few students finishing homework remained as well as Angelina who was going over quidditch maneuvers with Katie Bell. "See you tomorrow, Weasley," Fred chided.

"Goodnight," said Hermione, watching her own tired body ascend the girls' staircase.

"'night," Fred echoed.

Hermione rubbed her sleepy eyes and turned toward the boys' stairs.

"Fred!" an angry voice called from near the fireplace. It took Hermione an extra second to realise that she was the one being addressed. She turned around and saw Ron and Harry on their feet in front of the fireplace looking far from pleased. Slowly she walked back to them, wondering why they looked so upset.

"What are you doing, Fred?" Harry asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Going to bed…" Hermione answered, confused.

"That's not what we meant. What are you doing with Hermione?" he said angrily.

Hermione panicked for a moment. She was worried that they knew about the soul switching, but quickly realised that that couldn't be it. They wouldn't have called her Fred and they would have stopped both of them, not just her.

"What are you talking about?" she finally asked.

"Don't play stupid, Fred. Ginny told us she saw you kissing her after the quidditch game," explained Harry.

"Yeah! And she looked thoroughly snogged when she came down to breakfast yesterday morning!" Ron held a hard glare. "How long ago did this start?"

Her mind going blank for a second, all Hermione could do was curse her own foolishness. How could she have thought that in the busy common room that no one had seen her kiss Fred? And that morning when Fred had dressed her so badly, the whole school probably thought she'd just had a good snog. What was she supposed to say?

"What business is it of yours?" she asked. She didn't know what else to say. It sounded reasonable for Fred to say, and she also wanted to know what right they thought they had in interfering with her relationships… even if this wasn't a relationship.

"What business of… She's our best friend! We want to know what you mean by this!" shouted Ron. "Why her?"

"Why not?"

"This is just a game to you, isn't it? The one girl in school who doesn't fall for your charm. She just a challenge?" demanded Ron.

Hermione was getting angrier by the second. "Of course. You think it has to be a game. Why else would I want to be around her?"

"C'mon, Fred. You could pick any girl in school to be with. Hermione's not your type. So what are you playing at?" Harry said, fixing a heated glare on her. She had seen Ron angry with Fred many times, but she'd never seen Harry treat Fred like this.

"Not my type? Enlighten me. What is it about her that you think I could never appreciate her?" challenged Hermione.

"Come off it. You'd never really go for her. You're only ever after the pretty girls that think you're amazing," Ron accused.

Hermione's insides were burning with fury. "Only the pretty ones? You sure seem to think loads of her. You act as though she's so bad that only the pair of you could possibly tolerate her looks and personality!"

"Just leave her alone, Fred!" Ron yelled.

"You know, I think it's you two that should probably leave her alone," retorted Hermione.

"We're serious, Fred. Don't mess with her," ordered Harry.

"Sorry, but you have no say over who she wants to spend time with. It's none of your business…"

Hermione's words were cut short as Ron's fist connected with her eye. Her brain stopped functioning for a split second as a blinding white pain exploded in her eye and reverberated through her head. She stumbled backward, her hand covering the already swelling skin.

"Ron Weasley! What the fuck are you doing?!" Hermione's voice rang through the common room as Fred came bursting out of the girls' staircase.

Ron reeled backward at her sudden appearance and harsh words. In the five years that he'd known her, she had never once used that word. "Hermione…" Harry and Ron said in stunned apprehension.

"How dare you do that to him!" Fred shouted. "This whole thing is none of your bloody business!"

"Hermione," said Harry slowly and calmly. "We just…"

"Shut up, Harry! I heard the whole thing! Who do you two think you are to get involved in this?! It's none of your business who I see! And believe it or not, there are people out there who don't think of me as an ugly nag, like you!" Fred said angrily, closing the gap between him and Ron, a threatening look in his eye. They had no right to accuse him of such terrible intentions, and he could not believe the way Ron had insulted Hermione. What he said was probably killing her. He could not stand idly by.

"Hermione, we don't think…" started Ron defensively.

"Shut up, Ron!" Fred yelled. "I'm a big girl and don't need you two making judgments about who I choose to be around!"

"Hermione…"

"I'm done!" Fred yelled at them. "Now leave!"

"No," said Ron defiantly. "He's my brother, Hermione. I think I know him better than you and I won't let him take advantage of you. The only thing he wants is to see how fast he can get into your knickers."

Ron fell back on the floor, sporting his own black eye after Hermione's small fist connected with his face. Fred stood there seething in Hermione's small body. He angrily brushed a few stray hairs from his face and rubbed his painful knuckles.

"Bloody hell…" said Ron, getting to his feet.

"I don't know who you think you are, telling me who I'm allowed to be with, but I assure you that you have no right, and you better stay the hell away from me," Fred bit at Ron.

"Hermione," started Harry.

"That goes for you too, Potter." Fred spat. "Now get out of my face!"

Harry and Ron exchanged glances and obediently retreated up the boys' staircase. Fred looked around the room. All the underclassmen were scuttling away as if Fred had spoken to them. Angelina and Katie surveyed the scene for a moment before deciding to retreat as well. The common room empty, Fred finally turned to Hermione, not knowing what kind of reaction to expect.

"I'm sorry," he said immediately. "I-"

"No... thank you," said Hermione, tears threatening to spill from her bruised eye. "They…" She couldn't think of what to say about them.

"They said horrible things. They meant well… but they said horrible things," said Fred. He sat down on the couch in front of the fire and gestured for her to join him. As soon as she sat, he gently started examining her eye. "You are pretty, you know."

Hermione looked at him blankly. She knew that she wasn't very attractive. _Was_ he just playing a game?

"Don't look so surprised," said Fred. "You may not be drop-dead gorgeous. But you are pretty. I don't think Harry or Ron meant that you look bad."

Hermione took a sharp breath as pain stung her eye again.

"Sorry," Fred apologised, taking his hand away from her eye. Without asking, Fred reached into the pocket of the robes Hermione was wearing and removed his own wand. Hermione did not flinch as he cast a cooling charm on the swelling muscles. "That should keep the swelling down and there's a yellow ointment in my bedside cabinet that will help heal the bruising."

Hermione just nodded.

"I would never do that, you know…" said Fred seriously.

"Do what?" asked Hermione.

"I would never play a game like that. You are a real nice bird and I'd never toy with you," Fred insisted.

"I know you wouldn't," replied Hermione.

"No, I mean it. I mean, we've never been close, but I do think you're something special. I'd gladly tolerate your company," Fred joked, hoping to lighten the mood.

Hermione chuckled. "Thanks, I think."

"I'm sorry Ron hurt you. I should have come down sooner."

"That's not what hurt…" replied Hermione, unshed tears stinging her eyes.

"It's okay. You can cry…" said Fred. Earlier that day he had instructed her that she must never shed a tear in his body unless hit in the bollocks by something going 15 KPH or faster. But the look on her face was so pained. How could her friends make her feel like this?

Upon Fred's permission the dam burst, tears leaked from her eyes and down Fred's freckled cheeks. Fred pulled Hermione down to rest her head on his lap. Though it felt right to comfort her, it was extremely odd to see his own body crying, running Hermione's fingers through his own ginger hair.

"They were just looking out for you," Fred assured. "They wouldn't mean to hurt you. They were just being protective."

"Fred…" Hermione started tentatively.

"Yeah?"

"Nothing..."

They stayed there for over quarter of an hour, Fred gazing into the dying fire and Hermione, soothed by the light strokes of Fred's fingers through her hair, steadily drifting into a peaceful slumber. A loud creak coming from the stairs roused them both and Hermione sat up. "What time is it?" she asked dazedly.

"Almost half... eleven" Fred yawned, checking his wristwatch.

"I guess we'd better be going to bed." said Hermione slowly standing up and swaying slightly. "We both worked quite hard tonight and I for one am shattered." Her tone and expression didn't seem at all to agree with her words, she looked despondent and as though the last thing she wanted to do was be alone.

"It'll be alright, you know." Fred told her, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Harry and Ron will come begging you for forgiveness by dinnertime tomorrow. It would be sooner, but I'm planning on putting them through hell before I accept their apologies on your behalf." His feeble joke got no reaction other than a brightening of her eyes, which made Fred suspect she'd soon be crying again. Not really knowing what else to do and praying to Merlin that she didn't lay him out cold for doing it, he put his arms around her middle and hugged her to him. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, and Fred's wishing they were back in their own bodies so that he could wrap Hermione up and comfort her properly, it did seem to do the trick. She heaved a great sigh, and fervently returned the hug, making Fred feel he'd at least partially made up for failing to protect her from Ron's fist earlier.

They broke apart and grinned sheepishly at one another. "Well, night then." Fred said, turning and heading across the common room to the stairs. At the bottom, he paused and turned to see Hermione still standing in front of the couch where they'd been sitting. "And don't forget that bruise ointment, second drawer down." He finished, with a mock command.

"Sir, Yes Sir." she saluted, her grin widening.

As Fred slowly made his way up the girls staircase, rubbing his sore knuckles and wondering how best to ward off the inevitable questions from Lavender and Parvati, who were bound to still be up waiting for that very purpose, he knew that after the night he'd just had, he wouldn't be sleeping any time soon.

And nor, he suspected, would Hermione.

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	9. Tough Love

"Enough!" said George, noisily barging into the boys dormitories. "Time to get up, Fred."

Hermione didn't even lift her head from the pillow. George glared at the back of her ginger head and walked over to Fred's four-poster, setting a plate of bacon and eggs on the nightstand.

"Oh, get over it, Fred!" said George. "You're acting like a baby."

Hermione still did not acknowledge him. If he was trying to make her feel better, he was failing miserably.

"Okay, spill," ordered George. He stared at Hermione's blank expression, getting more irritated, by the second. "Fine. If that's too hard for you…" George forcefully shoved his twin's shoulder, moving Hermione over just enough so that he could sit on the edge of the bed next to her. "I'll make it easier. Which is bothering you more, Ron or Hermione?"

Hermione turned to lie on her side and scowled up at George.

"I'll take that as a 'Ron,'" said George with slight amusement. He took his thumb and lightly pressed it at the swollen, bruised tissue around Hermione's blackened eye. Hermione winced and pulled from his touch. "You know that no one loves and supports you like me, Freddie," he slipped from the bed and began digging through Fred's bedside cabinet. "But, really, what did you expect? You were secretly snogging your little brother's best mate." George sat back on the bed, a jar of bright yellow goo in his hands. "I mean, Ron, being the hothead he is, hardly ever needs a good reason to fly off the handle." George started dabbing the goo around Hermione's swollen eye. "And honestly, he was perfectly within reason to sock you one for your treasonous acts."

Hermione finally found her voice. "Treasonous acts?! Ron does not _own_ Hermione!" she said in disbelieving anger, slapping George's hand away and sitting up.

George chuckled at Hermione's outburst. "And you're lucky for that. Had they been dating I would have had no choice but to wail on you myself… or be considered a traitor." He said calmly, reaching out to Hermione's eye again with another finger full of the yellow goo.

Hermione stared at him with utter disbelief. This wasn't 'Man Law' this was 'Sibling Law'; another thing that she was completely unfamiliar with.

"Stop looking at me like that. You know I've got nothing against you, your my twin for Merlin's sake," said George. "Now get up." he commanded, screwing the lid back on the jar and returning it to the drawer.

"Look George, I really appreciate the heart-to-heart and all, but I really just want to be left alone," replied Hermione, lying back down and pulling up the blankets.

"Well, I'm glad you enjoyed the chat, but that's not why I came. I came to get you out of bed and I haven't changed my mind."

"George…" Hermione whined.

"No. The heart-to-heart stuff is over. You better get your sulky bones out of bed before this turns into a foot-to-arse conversation," he threatened.

"Why can't…?"

"Because," George cut her off. "You've screwed up enough. I'm trying to save you from making any more stupid mistakes."

"What do you mean, _I_ screwed up? Ron and Harry - ".

" Are both now on _terrible _terms with Hermione. I'm not going to let you screw things up with her now too. You've got to fix things." His tone was so serious, it gave Hermione pause.

"Nothing's wrong with me and Hermione," she stated firmly.

"Then why would you let her deal with this alone? She's been moping around all morning. She looks near as pathetic as you! I don't know what she'd do if Ginny weren't with her, but it's you she really needs ," explained George.

Hermione had never thought of it like that. Fred was probably as upset as she was and didn't really have anyone to talk to either. She suddenly felt incredibly guilty. "Alright, but what do I do about Ron?" she asked, hoping to at least smooth things over for the brothers, if not herself.

"Enough talk," George whipped out his wand and with a tiny flick of his wrist, the mattress Hermione was laying on tipped to the side, dropping her onto the hardwood floor. She glared up at him rubbing her sore elbow. He smirked at his handiwork and started going through Fred's trunk. Hermione got to her feet and grumpily threw her blanket onto the bed. "Here." George threw Hermione a pair of blue jeans and polo shirt, then sat down on the edge of Fred's bed again and looked at Hermione expectantly. He wasn't going to leave without her. Nevertheless, she glared at him defiantly and he sighed. "We'll deal with Ron later, it's not like we've never upset him before." Slightly mollified, Hermione nodded miserably and turned away.

It felt odd when dressing in Fred's body, but even more so with George watching her. She tried her best to remain casual.

"I still can't believe it - you and Hermione…" said George with a small smile. "Looking back though, I guess I shouldn't have been so surprised."

Hermione popped her head through the neck of the shirt and looked confused at George. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, come off it, Fred. It's in the open now," chuckled George. "It's just all those times we were getting into trouble, you looked at Hermione almost as if you wanted her to catch us. And that damn stupid look in your eye every time she did come over to us. The way you smile when she thinks one of our ideas are brilliant, or the way she worries about us when we could get hurt or in trouble. I don't know how I didn't realize it sooner. I just never would have guessed…" he trailed off, shaking his head.

Hermione felt herself blushing, her mind turning these new ideas over in her head. George might have just been seeing things, trying to make sense of the new development… but what if it were real? She knew the look that George was referring to, but she had never interpreted it like that, she'd always just assumed it was pity.

"Good," said George when Hermione had finished dressing. "Now go find your girl."

An odd silence fell over the common room as Hermione took the last step off the dorm staircase. Every single eye was on her. She wasn't surprised; word travels fast at Hogwarts. Her eyes fell onto the couch in front of the fire where her own brown eyes were locked on her. Fred looked upset and nervous. Hermione was just about to walk over to him when a petite red head stepped in front of him. Though Ginny was a full head shorter than Hermione at present, the look in Ginny's eyes made her feel only an inch tall.

"Look," she said so that only Hermione could hear. Her eyes were narrowed in an intense calculating glare. "I took your side because I have a feeling you might really like Hermione. But if you hurt her I will hex you to within an inch of your life."

Hermione gulped and nodded nervously when Ginny did not drop her stare. She knew that Ginny's threats were very real and something to be feared. She felt an incredible gratitude for Ginny's concern, but was very worried for Fred. How would she take it when she and Fred would "break up" when they returned back to normal? How would Ron, Harry, and George take it? This wasn't supposed to happen.

Slowly, Ginny stepped aside to let Hermione pass. The entire room was still watching her. She slowly walked over to Fred, feeling extremely self-conscious. Fred got to his feet as she approached. They stared at each other nervously and glanced around the room. Many people turned their heads, obviously still listening, while others continued to stare blatantly. Hermione looked at her shoes to avoid the many eyes, then back at Fred.

"Why don't you go for a walk?" suggested George helpfully, handing Hermione Fred's cloak. Hermione nodded gratefully.

"I'll just go grab my cloak," said Fred, turning toward the girls' staircase. He jumped a little when he saw Ginny handing him Hermione's cloak from over the back of the couch.

Hermione took one last look at the room's occupants and her eyes fell on a glowering pair in the corner. Harry and Ron sat at a small table, glaring daggers at her over their homework, Ron's eye sporting a large dark bruise. Hermione's chest tightened and she was finding it hard to breathe. Never had she been the victim of such intense anger from either of them, not when she had the firebolt confiscated in third year, nor when she escorted Viktor Krum to the Yule Ball in their fourth. A small hand slipped into hers and squeezed reassuringly. She looked down at Fred who wore a soft sad smile. Hermione, now chanting the words _they think you're Fred, they think you're Fred,_ over and over in her mind, nodded shakily and they walked out of the common room together.

Walking in silence, hands still clasped, they made their way through the corridors and out the front doors of the castle. A light thin layer of snow covered the ground and crunched under foot. It was the first snow of the year. Usually this was something that brought Hermione great joy, but today it just made the world feel cold and dead.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," said Fred tentatively, as though sure he was in for an ear bashing.

"It's not your fault," she replied, returning the supporting squeeze he'd given her hand in the common room. "Really." she continued as she caught his sceptical expression.

"Thanks," he mumbled, only looking slightly less upset. "How's your eye?"

"Fine," Hermione said rather smugly, "unlike Ron's."

Fred chuckled. "I was hoping you'd appreciate that, I know it makes me feel better. Well worth the pain." He showed Hermione the offensive fist which was sporting dark bruises on the knuckles. Hermione grimaced. "I wear it with pride." he assured her, satisfied when her smile returned, accompanied by an amused sigh. "Are you _really_ okay?" Fred asked seriously.

"Yeah." Hermione said, turning to look across the grounds and away from Fred's perceptive eye.

"I was really worried when you didn't come down for breakfast this morning." he persisted.

"Really, I'm alright. I wasn't, but I'm feeling much better already. What about you?"

"Me? Perfectly fine. That wasn't the first time Ron had taken a swing at me… just the first time he actually got me… well, you. And that's certainly not the first time I've been accused of being a heartless player either," replied Fred offhandedly, "It's like water off a ducks back" he finished, waving a casual hand.

"You're far from heartless, Fred." Hermione protested vehemently.

"Yeah, but you've only just noticed."

Hermione smiled shyly. "No… I've known a while actually." A light blush rose to her cheeks, but it was hidden behind the already pink tint from the cool wind. She chanced a small glance at Fred and turned her gaze back to the frozen ground in front of her. Fred smiled at her, a warm gratitude rising in his chest. "I'm so sorry about all of this, Fred. This has really gotten out of hand. I thought we could pull this off, but now with everyone thinking we're dating, everyone watching us carefully, I don't know… Maybe… Maybe we should tell Professor McGonagall."

"Are you kidding? After all we've gone through so far? And besides, I think we're doing well now. We even had a serious row last night with Ron and Harry and still stayed in character. It's just a few more days." he said persuasively. " And I don't want you to get in trouble." he added quietly.

Hermione gave him a warm smile. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it. Besides, I'm starting to think this is actually kind of fun," admitted Fred.

"What?" said Hermione incredulously.

"Yeah. It's like a game. It's rather funny when you think about it. I mean, it's just a week. What's one week in the course of our lives? And it will be a week that we will never forget. Someday you and I will both be able to look back on all of this and laugh. And when that day comes, I can't wait to tell George!"

Hermione's smile grew into a giggle and then a full out laugh. Her laugh sparked a similar one in Fred. "I can just imagine George's face when he finds out that it has been me all this week, all the things we did and said when he thought I was you."

"Like Guy Fawkes Night? And when he tried to get you to look at Katie's knickers?" Fred suggested, laughing harder.

"Yes, but I was thinking more of yesterday morning when George and Lee were goofing off and dancing suggestively together. Or when I saw him starkers this morning."

Fred's laughter stopped. "You saw him naked?"

Hermione chuckled and wondered why he was so disturbed by this. "Yeah… It's not like he's shy around you. And it's not like I looked. I turned away. But I really don't know why that bothers you. I've seen you in the nude; he looks exactly like you, well… except for that mole on your left hip." she cocked her head thoughtfully.

Fred blushed deeply and averted his eyes. "So I take it you've showered…"

"And you haven't?" Hermione teased. The idea of him showering as her didn't seem nearly as embarrassing as it once had.

"Actually I haven't," said Fred. "I cast a cleaning charm on you this morning and I washed your hair in the sink yesterday. I know I need to… I just…"

"You're bashful…" Hermione chuckled in disbelief.

"Yeah… but don't go spreading it around." he pleaded.

"Who me? Would I?" Hermione drawled, in such a perfect imitation of Fred that he visibly shuddered. "Cold?" she asked, concerned, dropping the act immediately. "We never thought to bring gloves or scarves, maybe we should head back inside."

"It's not that," Fred laughed in relief, "It's just you sounded so much like a Weasley twin there it was scary. I think you're enjoying being me, way too much." He shut up at the flash of annoyance on Hermione's features, but it didn't last long.

"You know," she mused, a smile edging it's way onto her face, "I think you might be right. You want to be careful," she continued, the smile becoming a smirk, "I might decide to forget about the potion and make the switch a permanent one." And she took off back to the castle, before Fred got over his shock.

"Oi!" he bellowed, just as she reached the front steps.

"I'll meet you in the entrance hall in half an hour, don't forget to wrap up warm!" Hermione called cheerily. "Or did you forget that you invited me to Hogsmeade?" And with that she disappeared inside, leaving Fred staring, open mouthed, at the place she'd just been, the laughter still ringing in his ears.

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	10. Mood Swings

"So, Doll," said Fred as he and Hermione walked alone down the long snowy path into Hogsmeade. "Thought of anything fun to do today?"

"Doll? Don't call me 'Doll', okay?" chuckled Hermione.

"Bird?"

Hermione covered her mouth to contain her giggles. "No. At least not when you're in my body... that is unless you want me to continue calling you Doll or Bird once we switch back."

Fred wrinkled his nose and shook his head. "Point taken. Love it is then." he said decisively. Hermione, now with tears of mirth in her eyes, was past speech and so settled for a shake of the head. "I'm wounded, you rejected all of my terms of endearment!" Fred clutched his chest dramatically, then quickly dropped his hand when he realised he'd inadvertently grabbed one of his breasts. "Oh, ha ha," he shot at Hermione, who at this point was having trouble breathing, "It's not my fault, they're very inconveniently placed." Realising what he'd just said, Fred broke into a reluctant chuckle, then erupted into full blown laughter.

They spent five happy minutes clinging to one another and alternating between loud, echoing laughs and quiet titters, before the smiles were completely wiped off their faces by the appearance of Harry and Ron. Harry just looked miserable and averted his eyes as he passed, but Ron's glare was so intense that Hermione actually looked down to check he hadn't melted the snow. Standing to the side of the path for a good ten minutes, getting progressively colder, but determined to let plenty of distance and students between them and Ron, including a bunch of smirking, fifth year Slytherins, Fred and Hermione both wondered if they might have been better off staying in front of the fire back in Gryffindor Tower and not just because of the weather.

"So, _Freddie-kins_," Fred teased , batting his eyelashes playfully as they set off, hoping to both get Hermione's mind off the two prats she calls best friends and lighten the mood once more. "Is there anywhere special you'd like to go today?"

Hermione shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Well, I did want to visit the bookstore and..."

"Of course! The bookstore!" Fred said, slapping his forehead with mock enlightenment.

"Oh, don't act like I'm that predictable. What happened to the truce? I just need to go today to get a book of spells that will help us use our own wands without suspicion. Upon research, I discovered that regular magic doesn't work on wands. And anyway, you're just as predictable. There's no doubt in my mind that we'll be stopping at Zonko's Joke Shop at some point." Hermione said, not knowing whether to be annoyed or amused. With her arms folded and her face twitching between a smile and a frown, Fred tried to tip the balance in his favour.

"Well, I guess if you really want to stop at Zonko's, we can - for you..." he cooed, with more fervent eyelash flutters.

Hermione once again rolled her eyes, but dropped her arms back down by her sides and schooled her features into an expression of mild civility all the same. "I also need to go to the Apothecary."

"Perfect. George and I need to restock. Those skiving snackboxes are using up our stores rather quickly. What do you need though...? Your class supplies looked fine to me."

"I need to buy something for _the_ _potion_," Hermione replied, looking meaningfully at Fred.

"Ah," he said slowly and stopped in his tracks. "I was hoping to have a word with you about _the potion_."

"What about it?" Hermione asked, turning back and retracing her steps to join him.

"Just wondering," Fred said nonchalantly, "If perhaps I could give you a hand with it, you know, I've never made it before and thought it'd be interesting." Hermione, however, looked sceptical.

"You've never asked about it before now, even though it caused our switch, why the sudden interest?" then, her scepticism morphing into suspicion, "This isn't so you can experiment with it for one of your mad inventions is it? Because I've already told you, it's illegal to use on humans."

"It's nothing to do with our _products_." Fred said, bristling.

"Then what?" Hermione asked, but the answer swooped into her mind as a blush rose on Fred's cheeks and she began to laugh. "It's because of what I said this morning isn't it? About me not wanting to switch back." She bent over double, hand pressed to her stomach "You're not telling me you actually believed me are you? Oh Fred!" she straightened back up and looked down on him with fond exasperation.

"I didn't find it at all funny," Fred said quietly, "You might have meant it as a joke, but the thought of staying like this forever, having to repeat two years of school, being treated like an encyclopaedia of all things magical by Ron and Harry, and not being George's twin anymore..." he trailed off, looking down at where he'd scuffed a hole in the snow.

"Oh Fred," Hermione said again, stepping closer and wrapping him into a warm hug. "I never thought...I shouldn't have said... I was just playing but I guess I got a bit carried away," she finished lamely.

"It's alright," Fred replied, his voice muffled by Hermione's shoulder, "I'm just being an idiot." He pulled away slightly and smiled faintly. "I don't know what's with me lately, it must have something to do with being in a girl's body, I'm getting emotional far too often for my liking."

Hermione cast around for something funny to say that would dispel the remaining gloom. "You're not going to try pinning this on PMS are you? Classic man's excuse for whenever a woman gets emotional. I think you're just making up excuses so you get to hug this fine specimen of human masculinity." she gestured flamboyantly to herself.

Fred, who was surreptitiously rubbing the corners of his eyes, snorted. "You're really getting into this aren't you? No wonder nobody's noticed our switch, you play _me_better than _I_ do."

"Well, you've not been doing so badly yourself," Hermione said seriously, taking Fred's arm and setting off towards the village once more. "What with all those points for Gryffindor, perfect performance in classes and zero tolerance when it comes to Ron and Harry copying your work, I've got some pretty high standards to live up to after Wednesday."

"You don't have to go all the way back to being you, you know." Fred said, sounding quite a bit happier than he had done a moment ago. "Hasn't being me taught you anything? You can still be brilliant without keeping rigidly to the rules and still have fun without getting caught." Their laughter was once again echoing, both their jovial demeanours restored. "So the potion will be ready by Wednesday then?" Fred asked, conversationally, hoping not to remind Hermione of his previous upset.

"Wednesday morning to be exact, I just need to buy the boomslang skin today and the rest is simple." She said, taking a side long glance at his profile. "You can finish it if you like, keep it in the girls' dorm even, it's getting hard to come up with good excuses where I've been that'll keep George and Lee happy."

"You couldn't just tell them you're off to snog me?" Fred asked slyly. "But I'll do it, so long as you've got fool proof instructions for me to go by, don't want to mess it up. Oh, and if Boomslang skin is all you need, then save your gold. Snape has some in his store room. I could just..."

"NO! There is no way I'm stealing from Snape's private store again!" Hermione looked positively alarmed.

Fred took a step back and looked incredulously at Hermione. "Again?" Hermione mentally kicked herself. No one but Ron and Harry knew about that. "Do tell, Freddie-kins. What was it that such an innocent little prefect needed so badly that she stole from her esteemed Potion's Professor?"

Hermione sighed. "Boomslang skin... and I wasn't a prefect, it was a few years ago," she muttered.

"You've made this potion before?!" Fred's eyes popped.

"No."

"But boomslang skin is used in very few..." A mischievous smile slowly grew as a thought came to Fred. "Am I correct in guessing that you made a Polyjuice Potion?" Hermione bowed her head in shame and embarrassment, her face almost as red as the hair falling into her eyes. "Oh... you have to spill now." Fred looked extremely excited. "I want details as to why innocent little you took the time to brew such a complex potion. Who did you need to be so badly?"

"Okay... second year, when the whole chamber of secrets thing was happening, Harry, Ron and I decided to investigate the Slytherins to try and figure out who the heir of Slytherin was. So we used Moaning Myrtle's bathroom to brew the potion in secret. Harry and Ron drugged Crabbe and Goyle and locked them in the closet. Then they interrogated Malfoy about what he knew," Hermione admitted. "Turned out to be a complete waste of time in the end too, Malfoy didn't know anything."

"And what about you?" Fred's smile was insufferable.

Hermione closed her eyes tight, wishing she could forget. "Remember in my second year when my face got furry and I had cat's ears...?

"And a tail," reminded Fred with a chuckle.

Hermione nodded. Yep, he remembered. "I tried to become Millicent Bulstrode... but I accidentally got a cat hair instead of her hair. So the potion didn't work right."

Fred burst out in laughter that he had been trying to contain. Hermione bit her lip and stared uncomfortably as Fred's laughter caused him to double over, clutching a stitch in his side. Fred blew out calming breaths and stood up, still smiling broadly. "No biting your lip like that, remember?" Fred admonished quickly. "Man... and here I thought you never got into mischief..."

"Why does everyone see me as just a goodie-two shoes?! I've gotten into plenty of mischief! I've been right beside Harry every time he's gotten into trouble…" Hermione complained heatedly. "I got past a three-headed dog, a giant chess board, devil's snare, smuggled a baby dragon, snuck out after dark _numerous_ times, brewed polyjuice potion, discovered the entrance to the chamber of secrets, was petrified by a basilisk, punched Malfoy in the face - the one time your git of a brother has ever been impressed with me I might add, time-travelled, rescued a hippogriff, snuck out of Hogwarts to the shrieking shack, escaped a werewolf, abetted a felon, and kidnapped Rita Skeeter! And still everyone thinks I'm nothing but a bloody innocent little prefect!!!"

Fred couldn't speak. His eyes looked as though they might fall out of his head, his mouth gaping in disbelief. "Holy shit, Granger... And after all that you give me and George hell for testing candy on first years?" His mind was still reeling. "Wait... you kidnapped Rita Skeeter?"

"Well... yes... but she deserved it! And I did let her go... after a few days... And don't call me 'Granger.'"

"Wow, I sure hope you don't have any plans tonight. There's no way you're getting out of explaining all that." Fred said in a 'don't argue with me' tone, so close to Hermione's own that she couldn't help but chuckle.

"Alright, Alright, I'll tell you everything later, but shut up about it for now, don't want anyone overhearing." She said, waving an arm as though in a silent 'ta da', presenting Hogsmeade to Fred. "Where to first?"

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	11. Only In My Dreams

After a long morning of visiting the many shops Hogsmeade had to offer, Hermione and Fred settled down at a private table in the corner of the three broomsticks with two large mugs of foaming butterbeer, depositing their heavy shopping bags on the floor next to them.

"Phew, I don't think I've ever bought that much in one trip to Hogsmeade," said Hermione, taking a long sip of butterbeer that warmed her pleasantly from the inside.

"Well, it wasn't really _you_ that bought that much. I think I might have gone a little overboard in the Apothecary…" admitted Fred.

"And Honeydukes?" added Hermione.

"No, George and I always carry a heavy stock of sweets that could rival our potion supplies. And if you haven't gotten into it yet then you're hurting my rep'. Always carry at least two sweets in my schoolbag and eat them during class," Fred instructed like a doctor giving orders. He looked a little upset when he realised that Hermione had stopped listening. She was nervously looking over her shoulder at the many other students enjoying their butterbeer. "What's the matter?"

Hermione returned her full attention to Fred. "Nothing. It's just… it's so weird that people think we're a couple. They won't stop looking…"

"And this bothers you?" he asked, sounding slightly peeved.

"Well, I… I guess. I mean, I don't think it would if this were real. But we're not a real couple. Everyone just thinks we're together because they think we've been snogging," explained Hermione.

Fred chuckled. "But you did snog me."

A light blush rose to Hermione's cheeks. "You know perfectly well that I didn't have a choice."

"Do I?" Fred asked, a sly smile playing across his lips. "I'm still not sure. I mean, was kissing the only way to transfer your DNA?" His smile grew and his eyebrows rose in question, as he leaned back in his seat and steepled his fingers in a very Dumbledore like way.

"How could you suggest… I told you I had thought of spitting in your mouth, but I knew you'd object. I had to act fast!" Hermione defended. "It was all I could think of. I-"

"You know I'm playing, right?" checked Fred.

Hermione slowed down, "You better be. Because, you know, I wasn't the only one participating in that kiss. I at least had a purpose in kissing you, what's your excuse?"

"A pretty girl throws herself on me, I'm not about to push her away, am I?" smirked Fred.

"See that's where you get that reputation of yours from. But you know, I think it's all talk. You wouldn't do that kind of thing with just anyone." Hermione stopped talking immediately. Her and Fred's eyes met, their faces slack in complete bewilderment at her last statement.

Fred looked at her in disbelief. _What did she mean by that?_ he thought to himself. _I mean, I wouldn't do that with just anyone… But I did do it with Hermione… so what does that mean? What does she think it means? _

Hermione was also trying to figure out just what those words meant. _If it's true then why was I someone that he wouldn't push away? _Her mind travelled back to earlier in the day when George said he should have seen Fred's attraction to her sooner. _Is it possible? Could he, even in the slightest, be attracted to me?_

"You caught me. I wouldn't do it with _any_ pretty girl. But I can't imagine a situation where Ginny would ever kiss me like that, so I shouldn't have to worry," Fred smirked, acting as though the awkwardness of the last thirty seconds never even occurred.

Hermione forced a chuckle. She wasn't as good as Fred at pulling herself back together. "I'll be right back. I have to use the Men's room," Hermione said as she got to her feet.

"Rule of three," Fred reminded, his amused smirk still in place. As soon as she turned the corner, his smile slipped. He thought back to Hermione's diary entry: 'the look in his eye…" _Is that what she thinks? Does she think I'm attracted to her? Am I? _He had never actually considered it before. He was pulled back to reality by a cold drawling voice. Fred's gaze rose to meet the steel grey eyes and signature sneer of Draco Malfoy.

"Well if it isn't the bucktooth mudblood…"

Hermione did actually need to use the toilet, but that was not the main reason that she excused herself from Fred's presence. She needed time to collect her thoughts.

She zipped her trousers and moved to the sink to wash her hands. She stared up into the mirror at Fred's reflection, looking deep into his hazel eyes. This was Fred she was thinking about. He might not kiss just anyone, but that didn't mean that he thought anything special about her. He was a playful guy. And he admitted that he thought that she had kissed him because of the potion, which she did. He probably didn't want to hurt her feelings. Right? And when George said he should have seen the attraction sooner, that was just him trying to make sense of their new relationship. This was Fred. The guy was practically her opposite. There was no way he had feelings for her. She took a deep breath and dried her hands. It all made sense now. She would just go back and apologise to Fred.

She walked slowly through the pub, still trying to find the words she would use to apologise when she noticed that the table was empty. Fred wasn't there… and neither were the packages they'd purchased. She looked around the pub for a sign of him, but he was nowhere to be seen. She felt hurt. Why would he leave without saying anything?

"George!!!" a girl screamed outside.

_Oh, no… this couldn't be good…_

Hermione raced outside and jerked to a stop. She gaped in disbelief at the scene in front of her, a scene she could have only imagined in her craziest dreams. There, on the ground, not four feet away, she saw herself straddling Draco Malfoy. The longer she stared, the closer it came to being one of her most frequent fantasies, the one that danced through her mind every time he called her a foul name and she refused to retaliate. She was sitting on his chest, her knees pinning his arms by his sides and her fists beating wildly at his face. She appeared to be landing quite a few blows, which was no mean feat considering that Pansy Parkinson was attempting to yank her away from Malfoy by her hair. On the ground near them was the body of another boy; the quick flash of red hair revealed it to be George, who was barely visible under the combined mass of the large intimidating forms of Crabbe and Goyle. Angelina stood at the side looking horrified, but after a moment's hesitation, began kicking Goyle in the ribs.

Hermione shook away her stunned horror and quickly took out her wand. She cast a full body bind hex on Crabbe and raced over to Pansy, grabbing one of her arms and twisting it behind her back. Pansy let out a shriek of pain and released Fred, at which point Hermione ripped her aside by her hair. She looked as though she would retaliate, but stopped short when she saw who had hold of her. Hermione reached down and grabbed a large handful of Fred's cloak and yanked him off of Malfoy with surprising ease.

As soon as Fred's toes touched the ground, he spun around and punched Hermione in the face. Before his hand was even lowered, he gasped in surprise and horror at his unintended victim. "Oh Merlin! I- Oh Merlin! Are you okay?!"

Hermione said nothing. She held her swollen eye and looked past Fred. Her good eye widened when she caught sight of Ron and Harry, one of them on either side of Goyle, holding him back. _When did they get here?_ Malfoy scurried to his feet and far away from Fred and Hermione. Pansy quickly jogged over to him and clung to his arm. Harry and Ron, realising it was over, released Goyle. Angelina had helped a very battered looking George to his feet, who gave the stiff hexed body of Crabbe one last well placed kick to the ribs.

The three shaken Slytherins, self preservation alerts going off in their heads, quickly calculated that if they continued the fight it'd be two on one in the Gryffindors' favour. They took to their heels, skittering across the compacted snow like dogs on polished wood floors and leaving Crabbe's motionless body to the enemy. "And if you bark, we're bringing you down with us!" George called after them, his words more promise than threat.

The silence stretched between them as they surveyed each other. Eventually, all eyes fell on the dishevelled and bruised bushy haired brunette at the centre of their group. "What the bloody hell was that?!" Harry, Ron, and Hermione shouted together.

"Don't talk to her like that!" Hermione and Ron yelled at one other. They glared daggers at each other, but both turned their attention back to Fred.

Fred looked both guilty and defiant. "He called y-me a mudblood. I've had enough of his shit! I tried to walk away; I left the pub but he wouldn't let it go… so I let the little prat have it. And don't a single one of you tell me he didn't have it coming." he finished, swivelling his head to meet each of their eyes in turn, attempting to glare them into submission.

Hermione, Ron, and Harry scowled at her. George, with the only compassionate look among the many glares, patted Fred's shoulder. "Well, Granger, I think you were bloody brilliant. I didn't know you had it in you." he sounded almost gleeful.

"Thanks, George," Fred smiled, shoving his tangled hair out of his wounded face. "And please stop calling me Granger, it's Hermione, just Hermione."

"That was really freakin' stupid, _Hermione_," Ron said with emphasis, his scowl deepening. "He could have-"

"Shut up, Ron!" Hermione yelled. Ron turned to the man he thought was his brother, _if looks could kill _Hermione thought. "It's over." she said in a quieter but no less firm voice.

"It is not over! How could you let-"

"Let?" Fred growled, "Excuse me? Let?!" He started towards Ron but was hampered by his own calloused hands clamping down on his shoulders, Hermione holding him back, so he satisfied himself with more yelling. "For your information, _Ronald_,Fred was in the bathroom when this all started, so don't go blaming him. And in case _you_ haven't yet noticed, I am my own person, I can make my own decisions, so stop treating me like you would a young child!"

At this point, Ron's face was redder than Hermione had ever seen it and Harry was digging his heels into the snow in an attempt to hold him back. "You're mental! You're even worse than Ginny's Loony Ravenclaw friend, and that's saying something! Taking on Malfoy by yourself! It's about time they booked you a bed in the permanent residents' ward in St Mungo's next to Lockhart!"

"You didn't seem to find me so mental last time I punched Malfoy, in fact I remember you being quite impressed!" Fred blurted out, remembering Hermione's 'I'm not a goodie-two-shoes' rant from earlier. "Looks to me as though you're just annoyed because you didn't get front row seats this time around!" At this, Ron shook Harry off, spun on the spot and marched towards the three broomsticks, his exit spectacularly ruined by a huge patch of ice. Everyone watched as he flailed and skidded right to the door of the pub, through which he stumbled out of sight. Nobody laughed however, nobody even spoke. All eyes were now fixed on Harry, who was gazing at Fred with something akin to shock.

"Hermione..." he said weakly, taking a step closer to Fred and looking quite like the lost little boy who'd asked how to get onto platform 9 ¾, five years prior.

"Harry, please, just leave it," Fred said despondently, all the fight gone out of him.

Hermione saw the hurt flicker in Harry's eyes before he lowered his head, turned, and trudged after Ron, taking care to avoid the ice as he walked into the crowded pub. Immense guilt washed over her as she continued to gaze at the door through which both her best friends had gone. _Will things ever be the same? _she wondered, _What if they never talk to me again? Will I end up alone like in my pre-Hogwarts days? But Fred wouldn't let me be alone, right?_ But then she remembered that Fred and George were graduating this summer and the tiny light of hope sparking in her chest died. _How many things can change in these few short days_? she thought, wishing yet again that she'd told everyone the truth from the beginning.

"Let's go before we get caught," said Fred, finally slipping out of Hermione's grasp and pulling her from her melancholy thoughts in the process.

"Caught doing what?" George asked, attempting to raise his eyebrows but wincing instead. "We're just two couples on a double date in Hogsmeade, nothing strange about that."

"Really?" Fred said sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest, "Then how do you explain that pound of mince you call a face? And I don't suppose I look much better. In fact," he continued, looking behind him to Hermione, then at Angelina, "Out of the four of us, there's only Angelina who looks unscathed."

"We've got plenty of ointment. We'll be good as new in no time," said George, reassuringly. "Angelina, darling, you mind if I just catch up with you later?" he asked, swinging an arm over her shoulders and pecking her on the cheek.

She snorted in amusement at his calm disposition despite his many injuries. "Just try to stay out of trouble before then," she teased as she shrugged George's arm from her shoulder and spotted Crabbe, who was still lying face down in the snowy street. "And someone better do something about him too," She mused, "Can't leave him there to get frost bite or there will be trouble."

Hermione waved her wand at Crabbe to remove her body bind hex. He scrambled to his feet looking panicked. "They went that way," said Fred helpfully, pointing down the street where Malfoy had disappeared a good ten minutes before.

"And remember," George threatened. "You don't want to mess with us. We've got brawn, but it's backed up with brains, cunning, and nerve. You Slytherins nark, we take you down." Crabbe, looking much less intimidating when alone, nodded dumbly and headed off in the direction Fred had indicated.

"Right," said Hermione stonily. "Now that's all settled, can we go?"

"Honeyduke's passage?" George suggested, giving Angelina a wave as she headed for the warmth of the pub.

Hermione nodded. Fred attempted to catch her eye, but she turned away from him and followed George to the sweetshop. Remembering their many bags, unceremoniously dumped on a first war memorial bench before he tackled Malfoy, Fred scooped them up and, staggering slightly, made his way after the others, wondering how on earth he was going to fix things this time.

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**I'm sorry! After I just told you all that I try to post everyday, there go a few days that I'm unable to post. Forgive me. Sometimes real life gets in the way of fiction.^^**

**I hope you liked the chapter. Please tell me what you thought... and tell me you don't hate me for the delay! **

**And as always, thanks to Binka Fudge!**


	12. Finding Forgiveness

"Damn, Hermione," said George, pulling off his shirt and beginning to apply the yellow goo to the many bruises covering his body. Crabbe and Goyle had done quite a number on him. It was hard to spot a square inch of him that wasn't black and blue. "I just can't get over it. You were bloody amazing. I didn't know you had it in you."

"So you keep saying," Hermione snapped, glaring at George. "And it was not amazing!" she continued furiously, starting to pace again and throwing in some wild arm waves for good measure. "You two could have really gotten hurt! And what if they snitch on us?" She froze and looked horrified. "Do you really want that on your record, Hermione?!" she finished, rounding on Fred.

Fred sat quietly on the edge of his bed, his head hung in shame. This was the first time Hermione had addressed him directly since they'd left Hogsmeade, her ire seemed to have inflated and he still had no idea what to say. He'd been doing so well, nobody even suspected he wasn't Hermione. His previously unheard of exemplary behaviour in lessons, his frequent trips to the library, he'd even learned to dress like a girl! And he'd put the whole plan in jeopardy, just because he couldn't keep his temper with that bloody, inbreed Slytherin. _And Hermione's right, if just one of them squeals, it'll be her record it goes on, not mine_.

"Oh, c'mon Fred. You know they won't tell anyone. Of all the people in the school, you know the Slytherins fear us most. Actually, almost the whole school is afraid to cross the infamous Weasley Twins," George said bracingly, with a proud grin. For a moment Fred closed his eyes and pretended he was himself again and that George was actually talking to him. _The infamous Weasley Twins_, he thought longingly, _if only you knew, George..._ "Don't let him worry you, Hermione." continued George, resting his goo free hand on Fred's shoulder. "He's just concerned about you."

Hermione's derisive snort punctuated George's words and Fred inwardly cringed. He knew Hermione wasn't _worried_ about him; she was _angry_ with him. He felt physically sick. He felt like he'd gradually been going up in her estimations over the last few days and now he was way back down again, perhaps even further than he'd been before all this started. Not even George's certainty that the Slytherins wouldn't rat them out cheered him any.

"So that makes it all ok, does it?" Hermione spat, "Punch as many Slytherins as you like, because they're too scared to tell on you?" George was now looking at her as if they'd never met before, let alone grown up together. Deciding not to comment and chalking this unusual behaviour up to Fred's having spent too much time with Hermione lately, George held out the jar of ointment.

"Wouldn't do my back, would you Fred? Can't reach it myself." Hermione stared at him blankly, and then flicked a panicked gaze to Fred, who'd looked up and was watching her steadily. "What're you looking at her for?" George snorted in amusement, looking utterly perplexed. "Why would Hermione care if you rub ointment into my back? It's not like I'm a girl and you're trying to get friendly. Unless," and here he paused, looking uncertain, then a mischievous gleam came into his eye, "You're not into the _twin thing_ are you Hermione? Because, you know me and Fred don't -" His playful ribbing ceased abruptly when Hermione's hands shot out, one wrenching the jar from George's hand, the other slapping him smartly across the back of the head. "Ow! Fred! What was that for? I was only joshing."

"Well, it wasn't bloody funny!" Hermione growled, seeing Fred's disgusted expression out of the corner of her eye. "And it's _Fred and I_, not _me and Fred_. Now, turn round, stand still, and keep quiet."

George, looking even more puzzled and slightly hurt, complied, but couldn't resist one last dig. "Looks like you're rubbing off on him, Hermione." He regretted this almost instantly as Hermione's quick, feather light strokes turned slow, deep and rough. _Bugger touching him as little as possible_, _the cheeky sod! _She scowled_. Twin thing indeed! I'll give him twin thing_.

"Enjoying that George?" Fred asked from the bed, a satisfied smirk sliding into place, as another grunt of pain permeated the otherwise silent room. Hermione however shot him a classic McGonagall glare and he shrank back. _Oh well_, he thought, snatching up a towel and gently wiping the excess ointment from his face, _at least I'm sharing the blame with George now, nice to know something's right with the world_.

"There," said Hermione, now sounding rather tired, "All done."

"Thanks brother," replied George with a relieved sigh, "Want me to fix your eye?" he asked lightly, taking the jar back from Hermione and twisting the lid. Fred recognized this as one of those moments that he and George used to apologise to one another, without actually having to say sorry. Briefly catching Hermione's eye, he shot her a pleading look behind George's back.

"Go nuts," Hermione said permissively, flopping onto George's bed, crossing her ankles and folding her arms behind her head. _Bloody Merlin! She's brilliant_, Fred thought, smiling and sending her a discrete nod.

Bounding across the room and perching on the edge of the mattress, George set to work, pasting liberal amounts of the yellow goo over Hermione's eye, covering most of her face in the process. "A little overenthusiastic there, aren't you, George?" she teased.

"Well, it's the last of the jar and you told me to, and I quote, 'Go nuts'." He answered happily. Hermione would've rolled her eyes, but as they were presently glued shut, she did it mentally instead. "You know," George said conversationally, "It's a real shame we healed Ron's handiwork this morning, we could've left both eyes black and made out you were campaigning to save the Giant Panda." Hermione made an unsuccessful swipe at his arm, only receiving an earful of goo for her efforts. "Aaaaaaand,… done!" cried George, dobbing the last of the goo onto the end of Hermione's nose and standing back to admire the effect. "Should've been an artist, I should," He proclaimed tugging the towel from Fred's hand and mopping himself up.

"Don't give up your day job, Georgie," Hermione sang playfully from beneath the translucent, yellow mask.

"Oh, I don't know," Fred said thoughtfully, tipping his head to one side and cupping his chin in one hand. "It's not that bad, quite fetching in fact." Despite the thickness of the goo, both Fred and George plainly saw Hermione's expression slide from playful, to grim.

Fred's guilt washed over him once more and his gaze locked with George's in a silent plea. Quickly catching on, George finished towelling off his now perfectly healed skin. "I think I should probably go find Angelina," He said casually, grabbing a fresh shirt and heading out the door before even putting it on.

A suffocating silence filled the room, until Fred, who had started fidgeting nervously with the corner of the bedspread, couldn't take it any more. "I'm sorry, Hermione," he said quietly, slowly getting to his feet and timidly making his way toward George's bed on which a motionless Hermione still lay. "I really, truly am."

Hearing the agony and guilt thick in his voice, she could barely manage a short, soft, "I know," before her throat tightened and her eyes welled with tears. Expecting a lecture, rather than a breakdown, Fred was at a loss as to what to do. His eyes fell on the stack of fresh towels in the top of the open wardrobe and he summoned one, handing it to Hermione, who proceeded to take the thick of the ointment off her face, sniffling noisily.

"I tried to leave it. I really did... there was only so much I could take. The things Malfoy was saying about you... I just... I'm terribly sorry, Hermione," Fred babbled with incredible sincerity, wringing his hands in his anguish.

"I know, Fred," Hermione repeated, finally in a position to see him. She had never seen anyone look so painfully remorseful.

"I- What can I do, Hermione?" Fred said helplessly.

"It's okay, Fred." Her eyes finally met his, but it only made Fred feel more miserable to see his own pain and guilt reflected in them. He knelt on the floor in front of her, looking up into her face in confusion. He gently brushed away her tears and took her hand in his. "So much has happened these last few days, and it was entirely my fault and you've suffered so much from it. I don't know how I could ever apologise enough," Hermione muttered miserably.

Gaping at her in bewilderment, Fred sputtered, "What are you on about?!"

"Well," she said in surprise. "It was my potion. And I made you keep quiet so I didn't get in trouble. And you missed out on the prank. And if I'd stayed with you in the three broomsticks, that brawl would have never- " She would've kept going, only Fred put a hand over her mouth.

"You're unbelievable, you know that?" he said with fond exasperation. "I'm the one who drank without looking first. The fight was bound to happen eventually, I've been dying to thump Malfoy since potions class. And as for the rest, I've already told you, it might've been a struggle at times, but I've really enjoyed these last few days in your fluffy pink bathrobe and slippers."

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, but it still didn't reach her eyes. "Thanks Fred," and at the raise of an eyebrow, she clarified, "for making all this easier."

"Easier!" he guffawed. "I lost you your two best friends, gave everyone the impression we're dating and got you punched." He said incredulously. Then he stopped. "I can't believe I hit you..." he said miserably.

Hermione actually chuckled. "I can't either... but it's all better now, see?" she leaned forward a moment and tapped the corner of her eye. "George is quite the healer, he could give Madam Pomfrey a run for her money."

Fred gave her a nervous smile. "That he could, he's always been the better half. I cause the injuries and he fixes 'em. I'll have to hold off for a while though, at least until we get some more bruise salve, we only have one tub left."

"I'll pay for it." Hermione said firmly.

"No need, we make it ourselves. With all the accidents we have in our experimenting, we had to come up with a good healing cream pretty early on," he explained.

"You never cease to amaze me," she smiled. "You might want to make a double batch though, with the week we're having. I'll keep some in stock just in case. Although, I don't think I've ever needed any before this week. It's funny," she mused. "I've never been punched in all my sixteen years of living, but just a few days in your body and I get socked twice in 24 hours by two people I would least expect," she chuckled again, her smile finally reaching her eyes.

Fred gave her a small lopsided smile and ran his fingers through her silky ginger hair. "I really am sorry... Do you think you could ever forgive me?"

"I already have," she assured, resting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing lightly. "And I guess that means I'll have to forgive Harry and Ron for being overprotective prats too." Her voice trembled and a few more tears trailed down her cheeks.

"You mean _I_ will," Fred corrected her. Slowly, he got to his feet and ran his thumb gently down her jaw-line, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. "You're too good, you know that?" he whispered, causing her to blush a faint pink.

A light knock at the door startled them both and they sprang apart. Fred looked at Hermione and bit his lip as his eyes traced the tear stains down her face.

"I'm sorry!" Hermione whispered hurriedly, wiping the tears away as fast as she could, but failing miserably as her panic brought more to take their place.

"No, it's fine. I just..."

"Quick, hit me in the bollocks," Hermione pleaded.

"What?!" Fred whispered incredulously. "No, you don't know what you're saying."

"It's the only reason Fred Weasley would be crying right now. Just do it!" Hermione hissed. "I'll get over it. Just do it."

There was a second knock on the door, much more impatient. Fred glanced at the door, then back at Hermione. "I won't. I've hurt you enough. And I just can't. You don't understand…"

"Do it, Fred, or we reveal everything right now…" Hermione almost threatened.

Fred looked extremely uncomfortable and seemed to be in pain just thinking about it. "No," he said firmly. "I won't hurt you. What- what are you doing?"

Hermione had grabbed George's beater's bat from the open trunk by his bed. "I'm playing my part..." she glared at him defiantly, spread her legs and took aim.

"Stop!" Fred half yelled, holding his hands up to calm Hermione and stop her from doing something rash. "It's not a big deal. So I'm crying. It's okay..." but he was too late. Her hand swung down with force before he could stop her. He watched as if in slow motion, the strong resolve melt from her face to leave regret, the head of the bat hit her square between the legs. She dropped the bat and covered the place that she hit, bending over in shock. "Merlin, Hermione." Fred breathed, cringing in sympathy" We could have thought of something...anything else but that." He placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her.

"That's it?" She grunted. It hurt but it was nothing like she expected. It was no worse than the two black eyes she received since last night. "You boys make it seem like......" Hermione's talking was replaced by a low moaning. She felt an intense pain in her lower abdomen that started to grow and move to her stomach. The severe pain made her fall to her hands and knees on the floor and arch her back. She suddenly felt as though she would be sick because of it. She rocked back and forth on her hands and knees for a moment, not able to talk. Only a low hum and deep breathing could be heard in the room as Fred stood there helplessly.

A third series of raps on the door, this time insistent, but Hermione could not hear a thing. The excruciating pain and overwhelming nausea had blocked out all external stimuli for the moment.

"Come in…" Fred said nervously. Hermione collapsed into a fetal position, tears returning to her eyes.

The door opened and Harry walked into the room with his head hung, "Hermione, Fred, I know that what I said..." Harry started remorsefully. He stopped short when he saw Fred's body curled on the floor and Hermione's body standing over him looking frightened. "What happened?!" he interrogated angrily. It was obvious that Fred had been hit where it hurts most, but he could only guess why Hermione would hit him there, and why she looked so frightened, and why they would not answer the door.

Harry rushed to Fred and pulled him away from the crumpled figure of Hermione. "What happened?! What did he do to you?!?!" Harry rattled off like a machine gun, fury blazing in his eyes.

Fred looked confused at Harry's outburst, but quickly realised what the situation looked like. "No, Harry! It's not like that!" he said hastily, making a quelling motion with his hands. "He said something stupid and I threw the bat at him and… and well, it hit kind of low…" Fred knew that he was an exceptional liar, but he was filled with such anxiety and guilt that he feared he'd not been convincing.

Anger withdrawn, Harry grimaced with sympathy pain. "I'm-I'm sorry that I thought… I just… well… I'll just talk to you at practice, Fred," Harry said nervously before turning to leave. Hermione, still incapable of speech, gestured to Fred and pointed at Harry's retreating back.

"Harry, wait." Fred said, following him out into the hall and closing the door. They both stood there awkwardly, while he frantically searched for something to say. _How would Hermione apologise?_ He thought back over their recent conversations, _short, sincere and to the point, _he decided. "Look, I'm not agreeing with the way you acted," _Oh yeah, great start to an apology Fred_. "But I understand why you did it." _Better_. "I'm really touched that you care so much about me," _much better_, "and your friendship is one of the most important things in the world to me, so I'm truly sorry for not having enough faith in us to tell you about Fred and I sooner." _Overkill?_

"Thanks, Hermione." _Oh Merlin! He's tearing up! Definitely Overkill_. "I'm really sorry too. It's just you're more like a sister than a best mate and I don't want to see you get hurt." _Not as eloquently put as mine, but it'll do Potter, it'll do_. "I'll apologise to Fred too, as soon as I get to the pitch."

So busy with his own thoughts, Fred didn't realise until too late that Harry had stepped forward to hug him. So stunned was he at first, that he stood limp in Harry's embrace. Finally accepting that this was happening and he'd agreed to the apology, of which the hug is an integral part, he grudgingly reciprocated and felt a twinge of envy when he thought about the quick and painless slap on the shoulder that Hermione would be experiencing in just over an hour.

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**Thanks to Binka Fudge. She really understands the relationship between Fred and George! I love the line about campaigning to save the Giant Panda and that was totally Binka. ^^**

**Tell us what you think! Please review!  
**


	13. A Martyr to the Cause

As soon as Fred had pried Harry off of him, he dived back into the dorm, slammed the door, and rushed to Hermione's side, kneeling down behind her and resting a hand on her arm.

"Hermione, love… are you alright?" Fred looked up and down his own body. He felt his eyes glisten with unshed tears. It was his fault that she did it. He had told her that she wasn't allowed to cry unless hit hard in the bollocks. But she could have just pretended that she got hit there. _And to use a beaters bat of all things_... "Love?" he repeated, his voice quivering slightly.

"Mmm-hmm…" Hermione moaned weakly.

Fred leaned over and kissed her temple. "What were you thinking?" he said, running his fingers through her ginger hair. Hermione rolled over and placed her head on Fred's petite lap.

"That bloody hurts…" she groaned.

"I know…" Fred said consolingly. "You didn't have to do that. I should have never told you that you couldn't cry unless... My reputation isn't worth that."

Hermione took slow deep breaths, finally pulling herself together. She knew that she could sit up, but she discovered that she didn't want to leave the comfort of Fred's warm soothing touch. "Wait…" Hermione said slowly. "Harry said he'd see me at practice. What practice?" Her eyes fell on the discarded bat. She didn't need an answer. She knew perfectly well now what Harry had meant. Panic rose once more in her chest and the feeling of nausea was returning.

"Damn it… I completely forgot about quidditch," said Fred, putting a hand to his head and sighing in frustration.

"I'm not going. We need an excuse…"

"Easier said than done," said Fred. "Angelina's crazy when it comes to quidditch. She's worse than Wood. You try and get out of it and you could end up right back in this position."

"Then I'll go to the hospital wing," said Hermione stubbornly.

"What for? Madam Pomfrey can heal most things in an instant. If she gives you the okay to leave, Angelina will expect you out there," Fred countered.

Hermione whimpered but Fred let it go, a sign of how serious this new predicament was. "What about your potion supplies? We could use one that will have me in the hospital for just an hour or so."

"No! You're like a glutton for punishment! I told you, there's no way that I'm hurting you again," Fred said forcefully. "Haven't you had enough?"

"I'd rather get hit in the balls again than get up on a broom! And even if I got up there, it would be obvious that I didn't belong there. There's absolutely no way I'm going anywhere near that quidditch pitch until I'm back in my own body and it's as a spectator," Hermione stated firmly.

Fred ran his hand over his long bushy hair in deep thought. "Alright. Angelina isn't completely heartless, especially when it comes to relationships. If I'm in the hospital wing, she'll let you off to care for me like a good boyfriend should."

"What?" Hermione asked, not following Fred's train of thought.

"You can escort me to the hospital wing," Fred repeated. He glanced at his watch. "We have to do this quickly though. They're going to expect me down at the pitch in half an hour."

"But…" Hermione still looked confused as Fred gently lifted her head from his lap and got to his feet. He walked over to a large chest of drawers and opened the middle drawer. Though to most people, the chest of drawers would be a place to store clothing, Fred and George left their clothing in their trunks and dedicated the dresser drawers to potion supplies. Fred scanned through the many bottles and jars until he found what he was looking for.

"Wait, Fred," Hermione finally stood up and hobbled over to him. "I don't want you to take the hit just because-"

"You've taken enough hits, love. I owe you," said Fred simply. He opened the jar and shook some powder over his left hand, and then his right before closing the jar and stowing it back in the drawer.

"What is it?" Hermione asked nervously staring at Fred's dainty hands with apprehension.

"Bulbadox powder," replied Fred. Just as he finished saying it, he grimaced in pain as boils began breaking out all over the smooth skin. "Okay… open the door. Angelina should be in the common room still. Tell her the powder spilled when we were putting away the potion ingredients and that you have to take me to Madam Pomfrey and you'll be missing practice. She may argue, but stand firm. She'll understand."

Fred not having given her any other option, Hermione pulled open the door, then took Fred's elbow and guided him along the hall and down the stairs, taking care not to catch his hands against the rough stone wall as they went.

On reaching the common room, Fred was proven right, Angelina was there apparently working on an essay, judging by the potions book, parchment and her very noticeable scowl. Hermione, who hadn't seen the merit in the plan to begin with, but had deferred to Fred's more extensive knowledge when it came to obsessive Quidditch captains, felt what little courage she had take it's leave, and was about to make a hasty retreat until Fred stepped smartly around her and blocked the stairs.

"Oh, no you don't," he whispered fiercely, giving her a stern look.

"Can't we think of something else?" Hermione practically begged. "She looks ready to kill as it is, she must be having trouble with that Veritaserum essay Snape set. I thought it was a bit ridiculous myself, expecting us to know the appearance and consistency at each stage of brewing when we've never even attempted making it."

"Look," Fred said, trying to keep his patience. "It doesn't matter what excuse we come up with, you've still got to tell Angelina, stalling won't make it any easier."

"That isn't true." Hermione said, folding her arms and looking down her nose. "The closer to practice we tell her, the harder it will be for any ailment to be cured in time. I could slip and break my leg on my way out to the changing rooms," she said thoughtfully.

"Merlin's imaginary pet kneazle! What is wrong with you? Are you some sort of masochist or something?" Fred asked, his eyes wild. Hermione blushed. "We've already got a perfectly good plan. And as I've already said, Madam Pomfrey can heal anything, broken bones only take a minute. Unless you're suggesting doing a Lockhart and vanishing them, in which case you'd be spending all night in great pain? And even if you take that path, I'm still already suffering. Just get on with it."

"Oh, alright," Hermione said huffily. "But just remember whose body you're sending into the line of fire."

"That'd be the same one you're determined to put through any and all torture?" Fred retorted, making Hermione pout adorably. "You should keep that expression when you're talking to Angelina, she'll think you're upset about missing practice, makes it more believable." She stuck her tongue out at him before spinning on her heel and making her way towards certain doom, or at least a good hexing. Chuckling, Fred went to wait at the portrait hole and tried to look as miserable as possible, hanging his head so nobody could see the humorous glint in his eyes.

Steeling herself, Hermione decided on the direct approach, Fred wasn't usually one to beat around the bush and perhaps if she was quick enough, she could catch Angelina off guard and be half way down the seventh floor corridor before the yelling started. "Angelina?"

Looking up from her essay, which Hermione noticed had more crossings out than legible writing, Angelina's scowl softened and she offered a tired smile. "Hey George, not late am I?" She flexed her arms, stretched and made to look at her watch.

"Erm, I'm Fred," Hermione said nervously.

"Oh, sorry... Fred." Angelina yawned, rubbing at her eyes. "I'm shattered. This essay's got me... stumped and I've been reading so long my eyes feel...like they're ready to drop out. What... can I do for you?"

"I just came to tell you I can't make practice," Hermione said as casually as she could. "You see I've got to take Hermione to the hospital wing." She gestured to a rather forlorn looking Fred at the other side of the room. "We were sorting through my potions supplies and one of the jars broke, she's got some rather nasty boils on her hands, so-"

"Practice?" Angelina asked, puzzled. "But practice was cancelled."

"Cancelled?" Hermione echoed, trying not to sound too relieved.

"Well we weren't going to get much done in a blizzard, were we?" Angelina said, waving an arm lazily towards the window. "To be honest I'm glad, I mean nobody wants the team to do well more than me, but after the day I've had..." and she gave another lengthy yawn. "First that fight in Hogsmeade, then realising I've got to get this blasted essay in by Monday, all I feel like doing now is cuddling up to George with some cocoa in the kitchens and forgetting it all."

"Oh, well then," Hermione said, smiling at the cosy picture Angelina had just painted. "No harm done." Then, deciding on a whim she added, "Say, how far have you got with that?" She tapped the rather rumpled parchment. "I could give you a hand if you like." At the significant raise of Angelina's eyebrows she added, "Hermione helped me find a few extra sources in the library."

"I never thought I'd see the day." Angelina shook her head, "Fred Weasley, in the library. You must be really sweet on that girl."

"Er, yeah, she's a diamond." Hermione couldn't stop her face glowing red. "Speaking of Hermione, I'd better get her to Pomfrey, before those boils get any worse. And if you decide to take me up on my offer, you know where I'll be tomorrow afternoon." She added in a playful tone, trying to take the edge off her embarrassment.

"The library?" Angelina asked, raising one mocking eyebrow and Hermione nodded, laughing. "Ta Fred, that's a weight off my mind," she sighed, got to her feet and pulled Hermione in for a warm hug.

"Unhand the fair maiden, you impostor!" came a yell to their left. Turning, still half hugging, they saw George brandishing his wand like a sword and posing dramatically, while Lee Jordan looked on, clinging to the sofa for support as he laughed. "Fear not, Lady Angelina, thou art saved from this devil and his tempting ways! I challenge you to a duel!" he bellowed at Hermione.

Having no idea what to do in such a situation, she glanced at Fred over George's shoulder, receiving a brief nod in reply. _What the hell does that mean?_ she thought frantically. Deciding to tempt fate and put her acting skills to the test once more, despite their having been severely stretched already this week, she took a deep breath, flourished her wand, and in a somewhat shaky imitation of Sir Cadogan, shouted "En guard!"

She and George leapt around the room, making over exaggerated grunts and cries, exchanging parries and thrusts without any physical contact and mocking one another with witty jibes, until Fred caught her eye, grimaced and held up his hands. Feeling it'd be polite to let George win, since he was fighting for the hand of his own girlfriend, Hermione let her guard down and fell to the floor with an agonised shriek. "Aaaah! You've struck me a mortal blow. Ugh..." Letting out one last groan, she dropped her head to the floor and lay still.

"My Hero," Angelina said, her tone dead pan. Then she laid her head on George's shoulder and yelled. "How darest thou challenge Sir Frederick to a duel! Thou art lucky to still draw breath! What vile horrors wouldst thou have left me to if thou hadst perished?" She finished in an almost teary whisper. Then, she grabbed him by the shoulders and kissed him.

When they broke apart the whole common room was cheering, clearly this was a regular event. Hermione, who was still sprawled across one of the moth-eaten rugs, wondered why she'd never witnessed the twins providing such spectacular evening entertainment before. Then, with a sudden pang, realised that she was normally studying in the library until late, even on weekends. How on earth she'd lived that way for so long without going crackers, she'd never know. Remembering what Fred had said on their walk down to the village this morning, that she didn't have to go all the way back to being herself after taking the potion, she vowed to follow his advice.

* * *

**There you go, another interesting turn of events. **

**Thanks, as always to Binka Fudge! She's becoming more and more involved in writing this story and I think it's turning out better than we both expected. **

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	14. Not For Nothing

Someone prodded Hermione with their foot and she yelped and sat up. Fred stood over her, hands out stretched and eyebrows raised in a silent question.

"Oh Merlin! I'm so sorry, I -"

"Doesn't matter," he mumbled. "But the longer we leave it the worse these boils get." Making sure Hermione didn't see him, he looked miserably at his stinging aching hands.

Scrambling to her feet and retrieving her wand from where she'd dropped it in her fatal hour, she put an arm around Fred and lead him from the room. Once in the corridor, they were hampered by the Fat Lady, "It's only five minutes to curfew you know, you'll get yourselves in trouble!"

"Hospital Wing!" Hermione called back, not even turning around. Never had she been so impolite to a portrait, even in her worst moods. Being Fred was getting her into bad habits, and it worried her that she was starting not to care. Could it possibly have something to do with being in his body? Or was it just from all the acting?

"She doesn't normally bother me or George, it's probably because she saw you that she said something," considered Fred calmly.

"I don't see why," Hermione said, "I'm always late back from the library and I've been out on a few nighttime wanderings with Harry and Ron. And it's 'George or I.'"

"Yeah, yeah, whatev- Ow!" Fred broke off after trying to make a dismissive wave and knocking a suit of armor with his boil covered hand. "These are worse than the ones we got when we hadn't perfected the Fever Fudge," he muttered. "I almost feel sorry for Kenneth Towler, you know putting it-"

"In his pyjamas. I know. And you _should_ feel guilty. He might have failed his exams," Hermione answered snippily. "And I offered to 'take the hit', if you remember. You should've let me do it."

"I'll roll in bulbadox powder before I put you in harm's way again," Fred said stonily.

"If making me tell Angelina she won't have a full team for Quidditch practice isn't putting me in harm's way, then I don't know what is," Hermione retorted. "Turns out we needn't have worried so much after all, what with practice being cancelled anyway."

Fred jerked to a halt and stared at her. "What do you mean practice was cancelled?"

"We may want to consider looking out of a window occasionally," Hermione said cheerily. "The blizzard is so bad that you'd not be able to tell which way is up once you were flying, let alone see any of the balls."

"You mean I did this for bloody nothing?" Fred scowled and raised his hands to chest height.

"Well, not nothing. In the end you did it for me..." Hermione suddenly looked pained and bashful. "All 'I told you so's' aside, I really appreciate what you did." She kissed him lightly on the cheek.

They continued on in silence after that, both rather red and both wearing soft, secretive smiles.

Madam Pomfrey wasn't happy. "Bulbadox powder? What on earth are you doing messing around with something so dangerous without protective gloves?"

"I'm afraid it was my fault," Hermione cut in, hoping to take some of the focus off Fred. "She was helping me rearrange my potions stores because I'd bought some refills in Hogsmeade this morning and one of the jars broke."

"I might've known you'd be involved somewhere, Mr. Weasley," Madam Pomfrey said, exasperated. "I don't know," she sniffed. "If it's not one thing with you students, it's another. I had four Slytherins in this afternoon, _four_!" she repeated, pouring a gloupy, fuchsia coloured concoction into a shallow bowl. "Came back from Hogsmeade in a right state," she continued, now mixing in a liberal amount of grey powder. "Looked to me as if they'd been fighting, but they didn't utter a single word the entire time they were here. I even thought they were under a silencing charm for a while, until one of them let out a grunt of pain. Right dear, just sit with your hands in there for an hour and you'll be right as rain." She placed the bowl in front of Fred and gently set his swollen, raw hands into the now turquoise mixture that appeared to have thinned quite considerably. Fred gave an instant sigh of relief and Madam Pomfrey patted him fondly on the head before bustling away.

"She's not a bad old stick, Poppy," Fred grinned.

"Fred!" Hermione admonished.

"What?" he asked, with an innocent look that was much more at home on Hermione's face than it would've been on his. "Hey, I can't wait to tell George about the Slytherins."

"I suppose not," Hermione said glumly.

"What's up? They kept their mouths shut, we're in the clear and your record's still perfect," Fred comforted.

"I know, it's just... I just..." She couldn't seem to find the right words. "_I'll_ know." she finally said.

"Know? Know what?" Fred was lost.

"I don't just care what other people think. Every time I do anything against the rules, to help Harry, or to fix something that would otherwise stay broken, I ask myself if I can live the rest of my life knowing what I did. That fight in Hogsmeade would've had a huge red 'no' stamped on it without consideration. I know it sounds silly, I just..." she trailed off sadly.

"It's not silly," Fred said sincerely and almost taking a hand out of the healing potion to grasp her arm, but she grasped his forearms to stop him. "Oh, sorry. But it's not silly. I know you wouldn't expect me to understand, but I do. After walking in your shoes for three days, literally, I've noticed things. It's why you get upset if you can't do a spell perfectly on your first try, why you don't swear all the time and why you rewrite a piece of homework until you can't find a single mistake. You're trying to be the best that you can be, because it gives you a sense of pride and self respect." She nodded silently, her eyes locked on his. "I sometimes feel the same, you know." At her sceptical expression he explained, "Maybe not in exactly the same way of course, everyone's different after all, but I feel an accomplishment when I do a spell my first go, or when George and I have perfected a new invention." She smiled. "And it pleased me no end to do my best at being you, you don't know how good it felt to see your eyes light up because I'd written reams of notes or won you some house points."

"Oh Fred!" Hermione croaked, her throat dry and her eyes brimming.

"Now, now, none of that, no tears. Weasley twins don't cry, remember?" he teased, a little hoarse himself. "And if it helps, just think of it this way. It might have been your body, but it wasn't you. There's so much more to someone than what's on the outside, what other people see. Look at George and I, practically identical -"

"Apart from the mole." Hermione said with a watery chuckle.

"Alright," he conceded, "Practically identical to look at, but for the mole on my left hip and the one behind George's ear."

"Oh, yes, I noticed that," she remembered.

"My point is, we're still individuals. We don't have the same favourite colour - mine's blue and his is orange. I like lemon flavoured ice cream best and he prefers mint choc' chip. I'm better at transfiguration, while he excels in charms. It's the soul that counts, we should know that better than most after the last few days."

"I guess you're right," Hermione said, looking alot happier.

"Course I am," Fred said with an assertive nod. "That's another difference between me and George, I'm always right and he's always wrong." It wasn't true of course, but if it made her laugh like that he'd swear snitches were purple. "So, tell me, what were you and George getting up to for you to notice his mole? You're not getting into the _twin thing_, are you? " His body shook with silent laughter, sloshing a bit of the potion from the bowl.

"Fred!" she exclaimed, "We were partners while practicing the supersensory charm, I had to stand behind him is all."

"Methinks the lady doth protest too much," He misquoted with a roguish grin.

"Alright then, you tell me, what were you and George getting up to that presented you with the opportunity of seeing Professor Flitwick in exercise gear?" she smirked. Oh how the tables have turned.

The grin vanished. Fred shuddered visibly and looked sick. "What'd you go and remind me of that for? It's taken me weeks to be able to go into a charms class and not see that in my head. George made a game out of it, kept reminding me of it at every possible opportunity, that's probably how you found out?"

"So you're squeamish and George isn't? Hmm, have to keep that for future reference." at his defeated look she continued, putting on a tone of mock concern, "It might help to get it off your chest, you know. Sometimes telling someone about something makes it seem alot less significant."

Fred watched her for a minute, then his eyes sparkled with mischief. "If that's the case, then you ought to tell me about kidnapping Rita Skeeter, you know, just to get it off your chest." She didn't reply, but gave him an incredulous look. "Oh, come on," he wheedled, "You said you'd like someone to see you as more than the 'know-it-all prefect', and you did promise."

Forty minutes later, Hermione had regaled Fred with the astonishing tales of her first four years at Hogwarts and the image of Professor Flitwick in Lycra had thankfully been forgotten. She'd just finished telling him about where and when she had freed Rita Skeeter, he in fits of laughter due to her rather accurate impressions of the woman making numerous threats, when Madam Pomfrey, dressed in a pale green dressing gown and matching slippers, came back to check Fred's hands.

"Nice to see you've been keeping her mind occupied, Mr. Weasley," She complimented with a small smile. "I'll just do a quick diagnostic spell to make sure the infection is completely gone and then you can return to your house."

So it was then five minutes later, with a clean bill of health and a permission slip to be out after curfew, Fred found himself strolling leisurely back to Gryffindor Tower with Hermione. Somehow they managed to forget the location of at least three secret passages along the way, making a three minute journey last ten.

"Ugh," Hermione half sighed, half groaned. "This feels like the longest day of my life… and that's saying something, the time-turner made days in third year rather long."

"It's almost over," Fred comforted. "So, what's the plan for tomorrow? Abseiling down the cliff face? Bungee jumping off the Astronomy tower?"

"What?" Hermione stopped walking, completely baffled.

"Well, you've already managed to black both my eyes and seriously endanger my family jewels. Not to mention all the ideas of self-inflicted harm you suggested to get out of quidditch…" he smirked.

"Oh, ha ha," Hermione groaned. "Your sides are splitting. Besides, it's not like you've been exactly careful with my body either, rubbing bulbadox powder into my hands and starting a brawl with four of the nastiest Slytherins we know."

"Call it even?" Fred asked, a beautifully soft, blemish free hand outstretched.

"Ok, even." Hermione smiled and grabbed the proffered hand.

They set off again, neither appearing to notice that their hands were still clasped together, or if they did, they didn't acknowledge the fact. Fred broke the comfortable silence as they reached the seventh floor and started along it. "You were great, you know." She turned and looked at him quizzically. "When you were acting out with George in the common room. And before that in the dorm when you let him plaster your face like that, you were brilliant. It was like an out of body experience, or watching a memory."

"Thank you," she said, smiling softly. "I just did what came naturally, after a prompt from you and a split second panic." They both laughed. "Maybe we left imprints of ourselves in our bodies, they remember us and so act accordingly."

"Nah, if that was the case I'd have known how to put a bra on," Fred joked. "And never in a mock sword fight with George have I jumped up on an armchair or work table." Hermione blushed profusely, but couldn't keep from laughing. "I think we're much more alike than you'd care to admit," he continued shrewdly. "You're a stickler for the rules, but if the need arises you'll break the most important ones. And you outwardly disapprove of fun and pranking, while secretly wishing you could join in. And no arguing," he said firmly, holding his free hand up to stay her inevitable protests, "I'm always right, remember?"

"I was just going to agree with you." Her statement left him stunned. She grinned. "When I was playing dead on the rug, I realised from the reaction of the rest of Gryffindor, that you and George must do that alot. Entertain, 'act out' as you put it. I'd never seen it before because I always had my nose stuck in a book in the library. But if this experience has taught me anything, it's to sample every dish at the table and not just stick to the one that I'm comfortable with. Maybe I'll hate some, but at least I'll know I hate them and not just think I do."

"And do you?" Fred's quiet tone puzzled her.

"Do I what?"

"Hate any of the dishes you've sampled so far this week?" he clarified, his eyes fixed on hers.

"Well, I wouldn't say being punched, or hitting myself in the 'family jewels' with a beater's bat are on my top ten list of favourites," but he didn't smile, he was waiting for something more, but she wasn't sure what it was. Taking a stab in the dark, she went on soberly, "But no, the rest of the dishes were very much to my liking. And..." she paused, getting lost in his stare.

"And?" he prompted.

"I might even order them again some time." she felt compelled to say.

This garnered an even stranger reaction in Fred, he blew out a breath as though he'd been holding it for a very long time, flashed her a satisfied smile and hugged her round the middle. Utterly bewildered by his behaviour, she just hugged back, enjoying the warmth and comfort it brought. After what seemed like an hour, Fred stepped back, reached up and brushed his fingers gently through her ginger hair. He caught his breath and looked into her eyes. What was he doing? It felt natural, but somehow not quite like himself. More like natural for Hermione. Maybe there _was_ a small imprint... He mentally shook himself, recovering his usual happy go lucky demeanour and linking their arms. "Come on then, or everyone will think we've eloped," he joked, leading her towards the portrait hole. But as both their bodies entered the now empty common room, their minds were still firmly fixed in that peaceful stretch of corridor.

* * *

**Binka Fudge, you're awesome! This chapter was all Binka! I just played the beta reader for this one. ^^ I think it turned out great. You're the best!**

**Kimgeer- Yes this story is turning out much longer than my other ones. But, with the exception of my one-shot, my stories seem to be getting progressively longer. And though that pattern can't go on forever, I have a feeling that the next two stories I plan on writing could be just as long or longer than this. And yes, I've already got a few more story ideas circling in my brain. ;) I don't know when I'll post them, so make sure you put me on author alert. ^^**

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	15. Revealed

Hermione felt Fred's eyes on her as her finger traced the words of the paragraph that she had already read six times before.

"Hermione," he said. His hand lightly touched her own and a warm tingling sensation spread through her. "You already know what it says. Reading it again won't make it work any better."

Hermione nodded and took her Vinewood wand off of the library desk. She turned to Fred looking extremely nervous. Her left hand gripped his, his right hand holding his own wand. He looked just as nervous. Most wizards were as protective of their wands as a parent would be for their child; their wands feeling like an extension of themselves. Fred and Hermione were no exception and the thought of performing magic on their wands was enough to make them sick.

Fred nodded. "It'll be okay. We know the spell. We're both good at charms. This will work just fine."

"And if it doesn't?" Hermione asked nervously.

"Well, then I'll take us to Ollivander's to get new wands. But I'm sure it won't come to that. This will work," said Fred, faking confidence. "Let's just do it."

Hermione nodded. Their left hands connected on the table and they placed the tips of their wands together. "After three," Hermione whispered. "One, Two," Hermione's voice rose in pitch with each count. "Three."

"_Mutovirga,_" Fred and Hermione uttered clearly together. A white ribbon of light burst from the tips of their joined wands and wrapped around the wand tips, winding its way down toward the handles. When both wands were encased in the ribbon of light the light flashed, bursting through the entire library, forcing Fred and Hermione to avert their eyes. The light dissipated and they slowly looked down at the wands in their hands. Though Hermione never let go of her Vinewood wand, she was now holding Fred's Black Alder. Fred release Hermione's left hand and examined the intricately carved wand in his fingers, exactly like Hermione's.

"Well, let's test them," said Fred. Without a word, he flicked his wand and a small short-stemmed red rose blossomed at the tip. Fred smiled in relief. He cradled the rose in his hand and gave it to Hermione. "Works fine for me."

Hermione blushed at the gift. She raised it in front of her and raced the tip of her own wand down the rose's stem, removing the small thorns. "Though I appreciate the gift," she started, placing the rose in Fred's soft brown hair, the stem resting behind his ear. "It would look awfully funny for me to hold onto."

Fred chuckled. "I forget that sometimes. I'm so used to us in these bodies now. I'm still the same as ever, and when I look at you, I don't see me anymore; I see Hermione."

"I know what you mean. This doesn't feel strange anymore," agreed Hermione. "It might actually feel strange switching back."

"But I'm sure you won't miss getting punched anymore," Fred laughed.

"No, but we've been okay today... so far."

"Yeah, today's been nice," said Fred.

Hermione sighed and looked at the desk in front of her. She looked lost in thought, her frown deepening by the second.

"What's wrong, love?" Fred asked, placing his hand on her back.

"I don't want to stay like this forever, but... I really don't want to go back to being me." She looked thoroughly depressed.

Fred felt confused and concerned. "It's all going to be fine. Harry apologised last night and Ron caught me this morning on the way to breakfast. You're doing as well as ever in your classes. I think we're both doing okay, now we've got the hang of things. As soon as we break up... things will be just like they were before." As soon as Fred finished his sentence, he felt just like Hermione. He was happy with his life before, but he wasn't sure it would be enough anymore. He and Hermione had become close. He didn't want to go back to the way things were, just being casual acquaintances and only speaking because he and George had pulled a prank and she felt the need to discipline them.

"That's just it," Hermione said sadly. "I don't want to be me. I don't want things like they were. Back to being the bloody _boring_, know-it-all _bookworm_. The humourless _prefect _and _homework help_. The bucktooth _mudblood _who brushes off insults like they don't hurt," she finished with a dry sob.

Fred took Hermione's chin and forced her to look him in the eye. "Don't _ever _call yourself that."

"Which part?" she asked hopelessly. "Because from where I'm sitting, it describes me to a tee."

"Now you listen to me." Fred said vehemently. "Not one of those things is wholly true. You may be a bit of a bookworm," he ignored her sniff of self-disgust, "But you are most certainly not boring. And after all those adventures you told me about in the hospital wing last night, adventures neither you, Harry or Ron would've survived if you weren't a know-it-all. I think you know that." She made to speak but he held up a hand and continued. "And I know I'm displaying great hypocrisy here, and if you tell anyone I'll deny it, but there's nothing wrong with you being a prefect." Hermione stared at him in disbelief. "It shows how much faith the staff have in you. And never have you let it go to your head, like _some _I could mention. Every punishment you dole out is for the right reasons, even stopping George and me testing products on younger students is because you're scared for their safety and not just to spoil our fun."

"It's not just for that," Hermione said softly, and Fred paused, looking curious. "I also don't want either of you getting into trouble so deep that you can't talk your way out of it." A great wave of pleasure crashed over Fred at this unexpected revelation and he beamed. Hermione, however, still looked quite disheartened. "There's no denying the rest of it though." she said in a monotone, and Fred's smile vanished.

"This is partly my fault, isn't it?" he asked. "I'm the one who asked you why you put up with Harry and Ron. And I reacted to Malfoy's taunting when you would've ignored him."

"No! That's not what I -"

"I know that's not what you meant, but it doesn't make it any less of a fact. To be honest," and here Fred took Hermione's hand. "All it proves is that you're a better person than I'll ever be. You're a fantastic friend to be able to overlook so many faults. You forgive Ron his jealousy and Harry his mood swings, then there's all that stuff George and I put you through. And as for Malfoy, it must take immense patience and a great deal of self-control to rise above everything _he_ throws at you."

"Where was my patience and self control when I punched him in third year?" Hermione asked dully.

"From what you've told me, that was more in defense of Hagrid than yourself," Fred countered. "Which just proves what I said before about you being such a good friend. Now," he said firmly, "I'll have no more of this sort of talk from you. You're determined to put yourself down and be the one at fault and I won't allow it." This caused Hermione to give a crackling laugh.

"And you're always right?" she asked, the life back in her eyes.

"Exactly!" Fred nodded in affirmation. "Nice to see you've been paying attention," he said, patting her hand before drawing away.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, both going over what each had said, both wondering if they should bring up the subject of their new found friendship and how reluctant they were to give it up.

Hermione was the first to test the waters. "You know what the worst part of being myself again will be?"

"Having to wear a bra?" Fred asked with a smile and a tug at the uncomfortable strap under his 'I've been to the Eiffel Tower' sweatshirt.

"No." Hermione laughed, slapping his hand away before anyone noticed.

"Sharing a room with Parvati and Lavender?" he said girlishly, fluffing his hair and batting his eye lashes, dislodging the conjured rose in the process.

"No." she said again, picking the rose up from the floor and staring at it wistfully. "I'm going to miss _you_," she pouted.

"I'm not going anywhere," he assured her eagerly, inwardly relieved that she felt the same as him. "People think we're dating; it'd look more awkward if we completely stopped talking. We can still be friends, right?" Hermione's smile returned and Fred slowly leaned in to hug her. He leaned back and brushed her cheek. "And you don't have to be perfect, you know? You can still be brilliant without trying so hard. You can still be a good friend without letting people copy your notes. And you just tell me who dares to insult you and they won't know what hit 'em."

"Thank you, Fred. You're a really great guy." Hermione smiled warmly.

"And gorgeous to boot," said Fred coquettishly, plucking the rose from Hermione's hand and returning it to his hair. Hermione chuckled and shook her head.

"There you are," said a voice from behind them, making them both jump. "I should have known you'd be in the library."

"Ginny!" Hermione squeaked. Then, a little more calmly, "What'd you need?"

"To steal your girlfriend away for awhile," said Ginny, looking suspicious at her brother's unusual behaviour. Fred bit his lip in a very Hermione-ish way. "You forgot..." Ginny accused, seeing the worry on her friend's face. "You said that you'd help me practice charms today, but if you-"

"No, no. That's fine," said Fred quickly. "I just can't believe it's Sunday already. It completely slipped my mind," Fred lied convincingly.

"You sure?" asked Ginny.

"Positive," he replied. "I'll see you later, Fred." He stood up and, to Hermione's surprise, leaned forward and placed a lingering kiss on the corner of her mouth. Hermione watched his every step as he followed Ginny from the room and realised that she wasn't breathing. Her heart pounded in her ears.

"Fred?" Hermione looked up in shock at Angelina, though her mind still with Fred. "Is now an okay time for the essay?" Angelina asked, following Hermione's sight path through the open library doors, wondering what she should be seeing.

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, of course," Hermione said looking at Angelina. As Angelina took the seat across from her, Hermione took one last look out of the library doors where she last saw Fred walking away with Ginny. Her fingers ghosted over the place where he had kissed her. She knew it was just for show, but it still caused a mess of confusing emotions to bubble to the surface.

* * *

"Okay," said Fred, closing the door to Ginny's empty dorm. "What spells did you need help with?"

"Oh no you don't, Miss Granger," said Ginny slyly. "If you think you're getting out of telling me about Fred, you're seriously mistaken."

"What?" said Fred, eyes widening.

"I want to know everything. Start talking," ordered Ginny.

_Ah, man,_ thought Fred. _How did I not see this coming?_ He sat down comfortably on the spacious windowsill next to Ginny's bed, crossing his legs under him. "Okay... what do you want to know?"

"Everything! Where did this come from?" Ginny asked quickly but did not give Fred time to answer, ploughing through the thoughts that were racing in her head. "I mean, I always thought you'd go for Ron."

"Ron?!" Fred shouted incredulously_. How could she go for Ron? She doesn't like Ron, right? Well I guess she could… But why should that bother me? It shouldn't._

"Well, yeah. I always thought you and him always had little secret crushes on each other and that's why you always bicker. I mean, I knew you had a crush on Fred, but I never thought you'd _pursue_ him!"

"What do you mean you knew I had a crush on Fred?" Fred said, even more surprised than the comment about Ron.

Ginny gave Fred a confused look. "You knew that I knew. I mean it was pretty obvious. The boys may all be blind, but I'm not. I've seen the way you always steal glances at him. And all those times you told the twins how silly you think their inventions are, but then completely contradicted yourself by telling me they're brilliant? I understand now that every time you told them you'd rat them out that you were just trying to talk to Fred. I should have realised that this summer. All those times you caught those two in trouble, them dealing with Mundungus, stealing doxies, playing with extendable ears, you never once threatened to tell Mum. But you didn't need a reason to talk to Fred at Grimmauld Place."

"How do you notice all that stuff?" Fred asked.

Again Ginny looked at him funny. "You would have too if it were me. And I know you saw me notice, so stop acting like this is news to you."

Fred sat in silence, a funny smile on his face. His mind flicked back to all the times he and Hermione talked. She did find a lot of excuses to talk to him... He felt a light blush rise to his cheeks, he felt incredibly light inside. _Hermione _does_ like me..._

"I should have known this was more than just a little crush," Ginny grumbled in frustration at herself. "Especially when you said his name in your sleep – that should have _screamed_ a warning."

"What?! She didn't! I mean _I_ didn't... did I?" Fred blurted, hoping Ginny had missed his little slip.

"I teased you about it the next morning..." Ginny narrowed her eyes in suspicion and Fred fidgeted uncomfortably. "So... what I really want to know is what happened between stolen glances and you snogging him in the common room?" Ginny spoke slowly; her look of suspicion did not fall.

"I don't know... it just kind of happened," said Fred getting up from the window. He began to look at the things on Ginny's desk to avoid her eyes. He picked up the dormant snitch that she used as a paperweight and twirled it in his fingers.

"Not good enough," said Ginny. "Keep going."

Fred tried desperately to think up a reasonable story but was coming up blank. Even if he came up with something, what if Hermione had told someone else a different story? They never discussed what to say in this situation. As he set the snitch back onto the desk he noticed the top paper that it had been holding down; it was a love letter from Michael Corner. He suddenly felt a little upset.

"Hello... Hermione?" Ginny walked up behind Fred to see what he was looking at. "Oh..." Ginny began blushing but did not ask Fred to stop looking.

"What do you see in him, anyway?" Fred asked with a little irritation in his voice. Ginny stepped back and her eyes narrowed again, turning into more of a scrutinizing glare. "I mean, I thought that you always had a thing for Harry. Why would you go for someone like Michael Corner?" He said in disgust.

"_You_ suggested that I go out with Michael. _You_ said it would help me get over Harry." Ginny raised her wand and pointed it directly at Hermione's face. Fred looked alarmed and backed up with his hands in the air defensively. He messed up... bad. "You're not Hermione," Ginny stated through clenched teeth.

_Shit!_ thought Fred. "Wait, Ginny..."

"What did you find in my room the summer of the world cup?!" she barked.

"I-uh..." Fred was panic-stricken. He didn't know what to say. This was a security question. And even if he guessed right, she'd probably ask another. "Now, Ginny calm down."

"I am calm," Ginny growled dangerously. "You haven't seen upset yet. Now who are you?"

"Just put down the wand, Gin. Let me talk to you..." Fred said in a soothing voice.

Ginny snorted. "Not on your life... which might not last much longer if you don't tell me who you are and where Hermione is." Fred wrung his hands, his eyebrows furrowed in distress of the thoughts clashing in his head. There wasn't a way around it. He messed up and he had to tell Ginny. He jumped as a curse shot past his elbow, breaking a bottle of perfume on the desk behind him. "You ought to know that I missed on purpose, I never miss my mark," Ginny threatened coldly.

"OKAY! Okay! I'm Fred. I'm Fred!" he howled, holding out his hands as though warding Ginny off.

"Who?"

"Fred. Your brother. I'm Fred. Please, Gin, put the wand down."

"You're...Fred?" She looked him over carefully but it did not help. The impostor looked exactly like Hermione. "Prove it."

Fred calmed down a bit. She hadn't cursed him yet. "Um...Um... We used to sneak out in the mornings and I taught you to fly my Cleansweep Five."

"Everyone knows that," Ginny dismissed, unimpressed.

"Er... You're favourite dessert is apple crumble." Ginny did not look convinced. Fred rambled every single memory he could in quick succession, barely pausing for breath. "I told you I'd send you a Hogwarts' toilet seat when you were ten, I accidentally broke your arm when you were four and made it up to you by playing tea party for a week, I know it was you that gave Percy the aging potion, I don't call you Gin for short but as a nickname from when we broke into the liquor cabinet, I once hid a garden gnome in-"

"Stop!" Ginny stared into the frightened brown eyes in front of her. "Fred?"

"Yes! Yes, I'm Fred!" he shouted triumphantly. Slowly Ginny lowered her wand, but did not put it away.

"But... I just saw you in the library. And where's Hermione?" Ginny asked, eyes still narrowed.

"Might as well take a seat, Gin. This is a rather long story..."

* * *

**Hehe. Someone was bound to find out. I thought, if anyone, it'd be Ginny. The boys just aren't observant enough. **

**Fred's kiss just for show? Wake up, Hermione. ^^**

**Calm day. No punches, feuds, or visits to the hospital. Although Fred almost got hexed... Can the next day be as lucky?**

**Thank you for the reviews! They mean SO much! You guys are great! Don't stop!**

**And for those who haven't reviewed yet, please do! I write thousands of words for your enjoyment, all I ask is a sentence or two from you. _Please._ *bats eyelashes*  
**


	16. Unexpected

Hermione raced down the boys' dorm room stairs the next morning taking them two at a time. She realised at breakfast that she had forgotten the homework that Fred did for Transfiguration. By the time she had collected it she was running late for class. And though Fred tended to be late for many classes, they decided together that it best not to draw too much attention from Professor McGonagall. She wasn't as easily fooled as Professor Flitwick. Hermione practically leapt through the portrait hole and bumped straight into someone, sending them both stumbling for balance.

"Sorry!" Hermione apologised quickly.

"Geez, _Fred,_ what's your hurry?" asked the cocky redhead. Ginny fully regained balance and stared at Hermione with an unnerving smirk.

"Um- I'm just running late for Transfiguration..." Hermione said quickly, gesturing the hall in front of her.

"I've never seen you rush for a class like that," said Ginny, walking slowly.

Hermione gulped. Ginny wasn't acting her usual self. She felt extremely uncomfortable, but decided not to run to class. Ginny had just reminded her that Fred would never be caught running except to escape. "So, uh... Did you and Hermione do okay with your charms?"

"No, actually we didn't get around to it. We spent a lot of time talking," said Ginny casually.

"Oh?" Hermione tried to hide her anxiety. "And what were you talking about?"

"The two of you, of course. Oh, and then Michael and I came up as well." Ginny gave Hermione an extra glance. "It's funny though. She seemed rather opposed to me dating him considering it was her suggestion..."

Hermione groaned internally. Ginny knew. That cocky attitude and sly smile - she knew. "Did- Did she tell you?" she asked apprehensively.

"No. _He_ told me," Ginny emphasized.

"Is that why he wasn't at breakfast?"

"No. He was working on the potion," Ginny shook her head and chuckled. "You two are quite a pair. Neither of you know when to leave dangerous potions alone. See you later, _Fred_." Ginny sped up as to not be late for class herself.

"Wait Ginny!" Hermione called, panic overtaking her.

Ginny stopped quickly and looked over her shoulder. "You know me. I won't tell. You better run your arse off. McGonagall isn't the person you would want to cross right now." At that Ginny turned around and set off running, "And you usually call me 'Gin'." she added in a shout, as her flaming red hair disappeared round the corner. Upon orders Hermione returned to her run, taking every new shortcut she learned form George to get to the first floor. She made it through the door to Transfiguration, though completely winded, just as the bell finished ringing. Professor McGonagall gave a disapproving scowl, but did not reprimand. Hermione collapsed into the seat in the back of the room next to George.

"What happened to you?" George whispered, as McGonagall turned back to the board.

"Don't wanna talk about it," she panted. And to her relief George just sniggered.

Twenty minutes later, Hermione found herself tucked away in the back corner of the classroom, comfortably reclining in a large armchair, feet upon a matching ottoman, both chair and ottoman in a shocking shade of violet. She glanced over at George and chuckled.

"What?" asked George.

"I just never knew that Transfiguration could be so relaxing," she smiled.

"It pays to be brilliant," agreed George, swinging his feet up and placing them atop his own ottoman, twin to Hermione's in everything but its bright, lime green colouring.

When Professor McGonagall had first mentioned that they would be tested on their conjuring skills, Hermione felt that she might be physically ill, afraid that there would be no way that she could compete in a N.E.W.T. course. The assignment of conjuring four pieces of furniture by the end of class had her in utter panic. If it weren't for George's calm confidence, she might have lost it. The two of them retreated to the corner, where George lazily conjured his armchair and ottoman, which were soon joined by a side table and working lamp, allowing him to settle down only five minutes after the assignment had been given. It took quite a bit of concentration and a few tries, but Hermione managed to duplicate his work, then she too sat back with an enormous smile plastered on her face, more proud than she'd ever been. She was thrown into a class two years ahead of hers and was still able to excel. She'd always known she was talented, but she surprised even herself. Placing her hands behind her head, she sighed as she watched the other students struggle with their spells. She thought of Ron and Harry and began to feel guilty for doing so well when others were having such a hard time. Fred's words echoed in her head, _' I did not shove anything in your face! I just tried my best. It's not my fault that you struggle. Don't try to make me feel bad for doing well.'_ Hermione's confident smile returned. Fred was right. She should not have to feel bad for her success. She didn't rub it in people's faces. There was nothing wrong with taking a little pride in a job well done.

George sat forward and conjured a wood burning stove. "For shits and giggles," he explained at her questioning look.

"I like the way you think," she chuckled, starting a smokeless fire inside. "Here." She grabbed a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans out of her schoolbag and poured half into George's outstretched hand.

"Why thank you, my good man," George joked in a mock haughty tone, popping a jelly bean into his mouth. His snooty facade dropped and was immediately replaced by a disgusted grimace. "Ugh... potting soil..."

"It can always be worse with these," Hermione gestured to the box. "At least it wasn't dragon dung." George roared with laughter, causing a few heads to turn, as he leaned over the arm of his chair, pounding it with his fist. Hermione forced herself to laugh with him, although she really didn't understand why her statement created such a reaction. _Honestly_, Hermione thought, _it wasn't meant to be funny, must be an inside joke_.

"Percy _still_… maintains… that it was a… _fertiliser_ sample," George managed between laughs, wiping a tear of mirth from his eye. Hermione didn't have to fake her laugh anymore as she joined in. _Poor Percy._

"And are you boys enjoying yourselves?" asked Professor McGonagall. Though her eyes were narrowed, Hermione had the suspicion that the professor was actually rather impressed with their work.

"Thoroughly," replied George.

"I've never enjoyed a test as much as this," admitted Hermione truthfully.

"Have a seat, Professor," offered George, conjuring an extra armchair and ottoman in the shade of bubblegum pink. "Can't know how well we've done until you've tested it yourself, right?"

"And the fire feels amazing," added Hermione. "Jelly bean?" she added innocently, holding out the box.

Professor McGonagall shook her head in amusement at the proffered box, she looked as though she were about to say something but was interrupted by a knock on the door. Instead of speaking she just shook her head again as she walked to the door.

"You don't happen to have a Chocolate Frog, do you?" requested George. "I haven't had a good flavoured bean yet."

"In fact, I do," said Hermione reaching back into her bag.

"Uh-oh," said George.

Hermione looked up and saw Professor McGonagall walking back toward the two of them, no longer looking amused. Her eyes were narrowed and her lips were thinned. George and Hermione looked at one another in confusion.

"What did you do?" they asked in unison. "I didn't do anything. What did _you_ do?" they repeated together. It might have been funny if they weren't potentially in huge trouble.

Professor McGonagall stopped in front of their stove and stared directly at Hermione, whose stomach felt like it was demonstrating every known variety of knot, in rapid succession. "Fred, the Headmaster wishes to see you," she said, handing a note to Hermione. She felt as though she might become physically ill; all the blood drained from her face. "Should I even bother to ask why the headmaster would be summoning you?" McGonagall asked stonily.

She gulped and tried to avoid McGonagall's eyes. "I'm honestly not sure," she replied.

"Maybe he wants another fake wand," suggested George. "He really liked that last one."

Hermione looked confused at George. She assumed it was a joke because of his tone, but he looked completely serious. Either way, Hermione did not feel better. She grabbed her schoolbag, tossed a Chocolate Frog at George, and walked out of the classroom, leaving her confidence and pride back with her purple armchair. Making a right turn and heading for the stairs, she frantically wracked her brain. What on earth could she possibly be summoned to the Headmaster's office for? George looked as stunned as she did. The only mischief she'd gotten into was the brawl in Hogsmeade, but that was mostly George. And the prank on Guy Fawkes Night, had also involved George. There was only one thing that Fred was involved in that George wasn't... the potion. Could Dumbledore have possibly found out about the soul-switching potion? Hermione struggled just to keep breathing. If he knew about the potion then she was done for. She might as well go pack her bags. And what would happen to Fred? She never once thought about what trouble he'd be in for playing along with the deception.

"Psst."

Hermione turned around quickly and saw a petite, immaculately dressed girl with bushy brown hair smiling at her. "Fred..." she breathed hopelessly, her entire body going numb and a dizzying bell ringing in her ears. He wasn't in class. Dumbledore _did_ know. He'd summoned them both. Hermione turned quickly and vomited down the staircase.

"Hermione!" Fred whispered loudly, rushing to her side and resting a hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright, love? What's wrong?" Hermione could not answer as she retched once more. "C'mon, love. Let's get you cleaned up." Fred waved his wand to vanish the mess, took Hermione by the elbow and escorted her to the girl's room on the second floor. He helped her to the sinks and conjured a washcloth.

"Oh, he looks just dreadful..." Fred turned around to see Moaning Myrtle floating toward them, her look of mock pity belied by the gleeful tone in her voice.

"Yeah, hi, Myrtle," Fred said dismissively. "Are you alright, love?" he asked, turning back to Hermione, who hadn't moved.

Hermione shook her head, tears beginning to form in her eyes. "He knows..."

"Who knows?" Fred asked quickly.

"Dumbledore," she replied.

"What?! How?!" he shrieked in panic.

"Dumbledore knows what?" asked Myrtle interestedly, hovering on the edge of a nearby sink.

"Nothing!" said Fred and Hermione together.

"You're not brewing another naughty potion are you?" Myrtle pressed, grinning wickedly.

"Bugger off!" Fred ordered. "Before I throw something through your head." The temperamental ghost spun upside down and dived into her favourite toilet, splashing the floors and walls with water, her loud wails echoing through the bathroom. "Nosy git." Fred frowned, "You were saying?"

"I don't know how he knows," Hermione answered like Myrtle had never appeared. "But why else would he summon us to his office?"

"What? Wait. No. He didn't summon us," stated Fred, looking both relieved and extremely guilty. "I was about to tell you... I'm the one that wrote the note that got you out of class. I gave it to a second year that I found skiving and told him I'd let him off if he delivered the message to McGonagall. I'm so sorry that I worried you like that! I never would have thought-"

"Stop," ordered Hermione, holding up a hand, trying to take in everything he had just said. "_You_ wrote that note?" Fred nodded, shamefaced. "Why?"

"To get you out of class," he offered tentatively.

"But... but what if McGonagall talks to Dumbledore about it?" Hermione worried.

"I just had to risk it. Chances are that she will, but that still doesn't worry me too much. George and I did it in first year and McGonagall asked him, but for whatever reason, Dumbledore played along. We only use it in emergencies, but Dumbledore's _never_ pulled us up on it. I know it's a risk, but I didn't know what else to do," Fred explained, barely pausing for breath in case Hermione's displeasure became more vocal than a frown.

"But even if he does play along, won't he be more suspicious about your activities for awhile?" asked Hermione, turning paler than before and grabbing a sink for support. "We're supposed to be keeping our switch a secret and you've just attracted the attention of one of the greatest minds of the wizarding world!" Fred became a little nervous at the idea. He had never actually thought about that. It never would have bothered him before, but all they needed was Dumbledore's scrutinizing mind keeping tabs on Hermione... "And what was so important that you had to resort to forging a note from the Headmaster anyway?" she demanded.

Fred looked over his shoulder where he swore he heard a small splash and pulled Hermione out of the girls' room, away from curious ghostly ears. Then, in a hushed and rather embarrassed tone, he said, "I... You... You started your period."

* * *

**LoL. It had to be done. Sorry Fred. ^^**

**Okay. So I'm not good at keeping you up with the timeline. Sorry! They switched Wednesday night. This chapter takes place Monday. The potion will be ready Wednesday morning. **

**You guys are awesome! Thank you _so_ much for your wonderful comments. They mean the world! Please don't stop.**

**Now for the bad news... I'm not going to be able to post again until at least Sunday night of Monday morning. I'm leaving civilization behind and staying in a cabin in the middle of nowhere for the weekend. No phone, internet, or even wireless signal. *gasp* But I promise to post as soon as I get back. **

**Don't be angry. If you're desperate for something to read, I have a list of other stories you could read this weekend. (shameless plug)** **Have a nice weekend everyone!**


	17. Big Mistakes

**You are the best readers! This is my seventh story and I've received more reviews for this story so far than the rest of my stories combined! It's so awesome. Thanks so much!**

**And thanks again to the much too modest, Binka Fudge!**

* * *

"What?" Hermione asked blankly.

"You started your period," Fred repeated, turning a pretty shade of red.

"Ugh," Hermione groaned. If Fred was expecting any kind of sympathy he came to the wrong place. Hermione picked up her pace and started back up the stairs. Fred, in his current short stature, was forced to jog to catch up.

"Did you hear me?" Fred asked in an agitated voice, as he panted alongside her.

"Yes," Hermione huffed in irritation, not even bothering to look at him. "And it's your own fault."

"WHAT?!"

"Keep it down! Class is in session!" Hermione reprimanded in a whisper.

"How in the name of Merlin's whiskers is this at all my fault, Hermione?!" Fred hissed indignantly.

"You didn't take those pills," she said simply.

"You mean that muggle medicine?" Fred said, looking rather puzzled. "Well, I did, but I forgot yesterday morning... But-"

"And did you take it this morning?" she pressed.

"Um... no." he said a little sheepishly, "I got busy with the potion and-"

"Then it is your fault," she insisted. "I told you it was important. It may not be life threatening, but I was trying to avoid this."

"Avoid your period? But how-" Fred looked utterly perplexed. "What are those pills?"

"Birth control," she stated baldly, as though answering a question in class.

"What?!" Fred shouted again.

"Would you shut up?!" scolded Hermione, grabbing his arm and shoving him unceremoniously into a secret passage that would cut three flights of stairs out of their journey and take them directly to the Fat Lady's corridor.

"But you said-"

"I don't use them to prevent pregnancy." Hermione said, aggrieved. " I use them to prevent a period."

"Oh," Fred breathed. "You can do that?"

"Yes," she answered shortly.

"And it's safe to miss your period like that? Wouldn't you get..." he grimaced in disgust and decided not to finish his thought.

"It's safe." Fred opened his mouth as though to argue, but she cut him off. "And, no, it doesn't get gross, the pills make me not _need_ a period. I haven't had one in over a year. Coconut Delight." The fat lady in the portrait looked more confused than ever, but said nothing as she swung open. Hermione climbed through the portrait hole and strode across the completely deserted common room, Fred on her heels. She stopped at the bottom of the girls' staircase and looked up. "Dammit." she spat resentfully.

"No problem," Fred smirked. He muttered a spell under his breath then bowed with his arm extended. "Former ladies first." Hermione looked sceptical but placed both feet on the bottom stair and waited. When nothing happened she slowly took a few more steps. "It's fine, I assure you. But I've been bleeding for awhile now and I'd really like to change." Hermione chuckled and rushed up the stairs to her own dorm which she had not set eyes on for over five days. She took a deep breath of the clean, sweet smelling air and smiled. _Home. _"So... what happens now?" asked Fred.

Hermione walked over to her bedside cabinet, opened the top drawer and removed a circular pack of pills. Popping out one of the many blue coloured ones, she held it out to Fred. "Take this. It will make the bleeding stop."

"Thank Merlin!" Fred grabbed the pill and began to chew it enthusiastically even through the bitter taste that made him want to gag.

"You don't chew it! You swallow it whole." Hermione grimaced just at the thought.

"Will it still work?" Fred asked worriedly, now trying to rectify his mistake by swallowing the shattered fragments of pill.

"Yes, but I would suggest swallowing it with water from now on. Then you don't taste anything." Hermione instructed, handing him the glass she'd just poured from the jug on the windowsill.

"When will it start working?" managed Fred between gulps.

"You should probably be fine tomorrow, I think." Hermione said thoughtfully.

"Tomorrow!?" sputtered Fred, spraying water everywhere.

"It's not a potion," she explained, as though to a child, "It's muggle medicine. Hormones aren't magic. They take a little time. Now, moving on -" she said, in a tone that brooked no arguments, "How messy are you?" Fred simply scrunched up his nose in response. "That bad? And you don't have to be embarrassed. I've been through this a few times myself..." Hermione said matter-of-factly.

"It's soaked through your knickers... and my thighs are... I-" Fred was absolutely mortified. He had never been so humiliated in his entire life, and that was saying something. He felt that he might rather die than continue this conversation.

"Really Fred, it's okay. Every girl experiences this kind of thing at least once in her life," assured Hermione. "Now get to the bathroom and start undressing," she gestured to the door opposite . "I'll be in in a minute with a towel and fresh clothes."

"Girl being the operative word." he muttered as he turned to do as he was told, then, "Wait. What?! You're coming in?!"

Hermione sighed and shook her head. "Yes. And I don't know how you can still possibly be bashful. We switched bodies nearly a week ago. That is _my_ body and I've seen it plenty of times. There is no reason why you should be the one embarrassed."

"I still haven't seen you completely naked myself..." Fred said in a small voice.

"You STILL haven't showered?!" Hermione said in horror.

"I told you. I washed my hair in the sink and used some cleaning charms while dressing." he shot back defensively.

"That's it!" Hermione whipped out her wand and vanished the uniform off of Fred, leaving him standing there in naught but his soiled underwear. "Get in the shower!"

Fred dived through the bathroom door and slammed it shut. "You don't have to be like _that_!" he shouted through the wood.

"Just tell me when you're in," instructed Hermione, digging through the chest of drawers for a fresh uniform and underwear. "And leave your knickers in the sink. I'll wash them."

"Okay... I'm in," he called nervously.

Hermione opened the bathroom door and steam from the shower was already pouring out. "Now is it really that bad?"

"Yes." Fred retorted in a 'Do you really need to ask' tone.

"What?" asked Hermione incredulously.

"I feel like a pervert..." Fred sulked.

"Do you think I'm a pervert then?" Hermione was actually concerned that he might.

"No. Of course not. It's just different... It just feels wrong."

"As you said before. It is your body for the time being. So if it helps, don't think of it as me. That's what works for me, anyway," advised Hermione as she cast a cleaning charm on the dirty knickers, before tossing them into her personal clothes hamper.

"Okay, I'm finished," Fred announced. Without looking, in an attempt to make him feel as comfortable as possible, Hermione handed him a towel through the shower curtain. She could only imagine what he must be feeling. _At least when I had to shower I had some privacy_, she thought.

"Right, have a seat," instructed Hermione. Fred obediently took a seat on top of the toilet lid, wrapped tightly in a towel. "This is a tampon." Hermione held up the unwrapped tampon in demonstration. "You just insert this end and push up-"

"What?! Insert?!" Fred bellowed, leaping up and backing into the corner.

"Yes," said Hermione, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. "Surely you've at least heard of a tampon..."

"And how would I hear about them?" he snapped, crossly.

"Well... my mum told me," Hermione started.

"And you think me and my mum had that kind of chat?" he cried in disbelief, eyes wide.

"Well, I guess not." she conceded, "But muggle boys also hear about them in sex education classes." she offered in her defence.

"You have sex education classes?!" Fred asked, half disgusted, half interested.

"Just so we know what to expect, for girls it's this stuff and for boys it's... erm... " she started blushing even more than Fred at this point, quite an achievement considering he was standing in naught but a towel. "But I guess if you were home schooled you wouldn't have had then."

"No. I haven't and I still don't want to. There is no way I'm inserting anything, anywhere!" Then a thought struck him, "And wouldn't that constitute as losing your virginity?!"

Hermione tried hard to contain her giggles. "I assure you it's nothing like that. And even if it was then I've already lost it." At his shocked expression she added, waving the tampon in front of her, "to these."

"And what about me?!" Fred gestured wildly to himself.

"Y-You mean you're still a virgin?" Hermione said incredulously.

"You know what? Sod off. I can figure this out myself if you're just going to poke fun. I thought we had a truce!" he yelled angrily.

"I-I wasn't poking fun. I just assumed..."

"Yeah, I know what you thought. Heartless player, remember?" he said bitterly.

"No!" Hermione protested pleadingly. "It's just - In charms class George said it's been to long since you've seen a pair of knickers. So I just assumed that you had... you know." she flapped a hand expressively. "I wouldn't poke fun about ... that. I've never even kissed a guy, remember?" she ended quietly, her head hung.

"I've seen my share of knickers, just never in that way. Only in the pranking sense," Fred explained. "But I see how you would get that."

"I really am sorry if I offended you," Hermione apologised, but Fred wouldn't meet her eye. Then sighing in resignation, she added, "I'll go check my schoolbag. I may have a pad in there for emergencies." Fred started fumbling with the clean bra as she went off to perform her search. Hermione opened the door a couple of minutes later to find him fully dressed and waiting. Her jaw was set, her eyes intense and her fist clenched as she held out a small leather book. "What is this, Fred?" she asked in a low, dangerous tone.

Fred panicked. She'd found her diary in his bag. "Hermione..." he started slowly. "I..."

"What were you doing with my diary, Fred?!" she screamed, tears magnifying the betrayed look in her eyes.

"Just let me explain," he pleaded, reaching out a hand to touch her shoulder, but she flinched back. "I came across it by accident and-"

"And it ended up in my schoolbag?" she asked derisively. "What, you finally find something you enjoy reading? Been having a good laugh about me behind my back?!" Fred felt her words sting as though she'd slapped him. "I trusted you, Fred. I trusted you with my entire life! I thought I at least had my thoughts to myself. How could you invade my privacy like that?!" She was sobbing by now, tears streaming down over her freckled cheeks, crouching down as though her legs had given way.

"Hermione,..." he choked out, kneeling in front of her. "Please listen. I picked up the first thing I could find to distract myself from your nude roommates the other morning. I just read the first entry so I wouldn't have to look at them. I didn't even realise what it was until..."

"Just the first?" Hermione rasped out, looking up at his doleful expression through red rimmed eyes, her scepticism evident.

"Okay... and the-" She didn't let him finish. She flew from the bathroom and was halfway across the dorm before Fred managed to whip out his wand and silently cast a locking spell on the door to prevent her from leaving.

"_Alohomora_!" Hermione shouted and jerked the handle. "What did you do?!" she demanded, rounding on Fred.

"Only I can open it," explained Fred. Hermione's eyes flashed dangerously. "And I will as soon as you hear me out." His attempt at calming her by adopting a Dumbledore-like demeanour failed miserably. Deciding she would rather use her wand on him than the locked door right now, she took aim and fired a streak of orange light in his direction. Whether she missed in her fury, or because they were at least twenty feet apart, giving him time to dodge, Fred wasted no time in pondering the question. One well executed disarming charm later and Hermione had no choice but to listen to what he had to say.

Tear-stained, freckled cheeks still flushed with anger, she fixed him with a steely glare and crossed her arms over her broad muscular chest. "Talk."

Inwardly flinching at the amount of venom she'd managed to put into that one word, Fred complied. "I read the first entry just to be distracted. I honestly didn't realise it was your diary at first. As soon as I did I was going to put it back..." He gulped as her glare intensified. "But your first entry... knowing how upset and lonely you'd been . I just... I never knew you felt like that... and I was worried. I know I shouldn't have. I know it's your right to keep those thoughts and feelings private... but I just had to know if you were still hurting. So...so I read the last entry as well," he finished in a rush. Hermione glanced down at the diary, her tears ready to spill over again at any second. "That's it. Just the first and the last. I'm-I'm sorry, Hermione. I really am. But I'd be lying if I said that I regret it. It crushed me when I realised what jerks we had been to you. I'm really sorry if George and I gave you a hard time. It wasn't because we didn't like or respect you. I like you a lot, even more after this week. I just- I don't know. I'm just sorry..." Fred bowed his head miserably, grabbed the tampon off the top of the dresser, flicked his wand at the door and reached for the handle.

"Fred, wait," Hermione said quietly. Fred looked up, guilt and remorse etched in every corner of his face, his long dark curly hair, still damp from the shower, falling heavily into his soft brown eyes. He looked like a lonely puppy begging for a home, without even trying. Hermione wiped away her tears. Her sad pained eyes met his. "I never said you were a jerk. And I have never thought of you like that."

"But I was," Fred insisted, with a small self-loathing pout. "If I'd known how badly my teasing affected you, I'd never..."

"I gave as good as I got," she countered, moving closer.

"You were only doing your job though," he said, waving a dismissive hand.

"No. I was only hoping for you to notice me," Hermione's tears welled up again, humiliated that she had just admitted that.

"Hey," Fred comforted, touching her freckled cheeks with his small soft hand. "I always noticed you. And I think you already knew that. You even admitted in your diary that you caught that look in my eye."

"What?" she asked, her confusion visible even through her tears.

"I've always admired you." Fred continued, as though she'd not spoken. "You're brilliant, and so much stronger than you or anyone else gives you credit for. I've always thought you were something special, but this week I realised that I had barely scratched the surface. I've always admired you," he repeated. "But these last few days…" His thumb brushed her cheek again as he stared deep into her eyes. "I adore you, Hermione."

Hermione's heart pounded wildly in her chest. The room felt as though it were spinning. She couldn't tear away from his eyes. They may have been hers, but deep inside those eyes she saw him – Fred. She knew that she should say something but nothing came. Her mind screamed for her to break the silence, to reciprocate, but the silence continued. Fred snorted a quiet chuckle and a smile grew on his face as he took a step back, the sweet look in his eye never fading.

"Fred…" Hermione started, finally finding her voice.

Fred fought back another chuckle at Hermione's speechlessness. "I better get to the bathroom."

"Um… yeah…. Uh, here," she said. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a panty liner. "You just stick this to the inside of your knickers."

"Thank Merlin!" Fred let out a great sigh.

Hermione chuckled, glad to be pulled from her awkward stunned silence. "It will keep you clean, but make sure you take a shower in the morning!" she demanded with a playful glare.

Fred sighed and shook his head as he took the pad from her. "I'll never again make jokes about 'that time of month'." Fred chuckled. "This really bites…"

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**Okay, I know it's kind of odd to have Hermione taking birth control, but it seems like something she would do. I did the same thing in college. PMS or my period always came at the wrong times and I didn't do as well on tests during those times... so I just stopped having a period. And Hermione's parents being doctors (even if they are dentists) I figure they'd support her and even give her prescriptions.**

**Now I know many girls are going to be curious about this, Binka Fudge was even. I mean who doesn't want to rid their period? So, for all curious, read below for info on using birth control to skip periods. Anyone not interested - stop reading now and sorry for the long author's note. ^^**

Yes everything Hermione said was true. It is safe to use a regular birth control pill to skip periods regularly by skipping over the 'period' week pills. It works with all pills because the pills you take during your 'period' are just placebo pills. But it is safer to skip periods using monophasic pills (all the same colour and dosage) than triphasic pills (which are a different colour and dose each week) The truth is, when birth control pills were first introduced, they were marketed to be sold as 21 days of active hormone pills and 7 days of placebo pills to minimize the perception that these pills changed the menstrual cycle. Many women do not realize the "period" they have on birth control pills is **not** a REAL period – it's actually called _withdrawal bleeding_. Withdrawal bleeding is NOT necessary to maintain gynecologic health (some women hold the misconception that if they do not have a period, blood or other toxins may excessively build up).

There is no evidence that shows women need monthly withdrawal bleeding, and no health problems are linked to skipping or eliminating bleeding. Studies conclude that continuous use of the pill to eliminate monthly withdrawal bleeding is as safe and effective at preventing pregnancy as using the more traditional 21 or 28 day oral contraceptive pill regimen. It can even be beneficial. It can cause a decrease in mood swings and other PMS symptoms by having one constant hormone level. Also, the pill actually prevents uterine lining overgrowth and the pill will help prevent uterine cancer by keeping the lining thin and a woman does not lose as much iron which is good for women with iron deficiency (but _could_ be detrimental to women with regularly high iron levels). If you are considering skipping periods like this, you'll need to discuss it with your healthcare provider to see if this is a good option for you and you'll need their permission so you can have the extra prescriptions needed. Be aware that some doctors still believe it is unsafe and will not give permission because it is not supported by the FDA (FDA just doesn't test for continuous use). I cannot say that it is completely safe because all birth control pills carry risk of complication, but it is not more dangerous than taking a 21/7 regimen. If you need more information before consulting a doctor (because you really shouldn't just take my word for it) google the subject or go to www. Noperiod .com /FAQ .html (take out spaces of course) Hope that helps all you curious women out there. And for those who don't care, sorry for the long author's note. ^^


	18. Price of Pride

Hermione and Fred walked side-by-side down to the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning, both acting a little more shy and bashful. George rolled his eyes when he saw his brother's starry eyed expression as they strolled through the doors and headed toward him.

"Ahh, isn't it a glorious day Lee, my friend?" he asked, nudging the boy to his left and pointing them out, throwing on a sappy smile for good measure. Lee Jordan, was finding it extremely difficult to keep his sniggering to a minimum as he choked down his porridge. "The sun is shining, the birds are singing and the sky is of the clearest blue." George gestured to the dismal grey of the overcast ceiling, letting out a long, languid sigh.

"What are you on about?" Ron drawled as Harry snorted pumpkin juice out through his nose, clearly having noticed the love-struck pair too. "The weather's bloody foul. At least it's Tuesday and we've not got Care of Magical Creatures today."

"Oh Ronnie," George said with mock pity, shaking his head. "Will you never see the beauty in the free fruits of nature?" By this time, both Lee and Harry had tears of mirth gathering at the corners of their eyes and had given up all attempts at eating breakfast.

"Swallowed one of your own experiments have you?" snapped Ron, his ears turning red. "Mum'll kill you if you start inventing love potions." He returned his attention to his sausages, completely missing the flash of excitement in his brothers' eyes.

"Morning, Brother," George greeted cheerily as Hermione came into hearing range. Ron glanced up and back at his plate dejectedly. His twin brothers often greeted each other this way. He was only called 'brother' in teasing or times of need.

"Morning," Hermione greeted in return, watching George with narrowed eyes as he shoved a small notebook back inside his robes. _Oh Merlin, what's he up to now? _she thought as she took the seat next to him and started piling the food onto her plate. She'd been eating much more this past week than she'd ever even contemplated putting into her own body.

"Don't eat too much, you two," advised Lee, grinning broadly. "You don't wanna weigh yourselves down too much this morning." Hermione could tell just by his tone of voice that their free period that morning was going to be an eventful one.

"Yeah, you ready to get wet there Freddie?" George asked as he spread marmalade onto his toast.

_Just as I suspected - mischief_. "Only if you are," she smiled, dying to know just what she was signed up for.

Fred, who'd taken the seat opposite her and was helping himself to porridge, looked up at her incredulously. "You aren't still thinking about going through with that, are you?" he asked, not noticing that he was dripping porridge over the edge of Ron's plate.

"Urgh! 'ermiine!" Ron sputtered, spraying scrambled eggs across the table.

"You told her?" George asked in exasperation, as Fred took out his wand and wordlessly vanished the spilt porridge and scattered egg with one swish, his eyes not leaving Hermione's face.

"Yeah..." said Hermione, hoping Fred would give her a clue just as he did on Guy Fawkes day. But it became quite obvious that he thought Hermione already knew what she had agreed to.

"You can't be serious!" he said angrily. "That's too dangerous! I won't allow it!"

"What? What are they doing?" Ron asked him quickly, his arm frozen comically in midair as he'd reached for a fourth round of toast.

"Won't allow it?" teased Lee. "Man, has she got you whipped, Fred?"

Rather than feel nervous by Fred's outburst, Hermione became rather defiant. "She most certainly does not. I'm perfectly capable of handling myself, thanks."

"Good. Because it's too late to back out now. Not to mention it was your idea..." piped George.

"What do you mean too late? What are you doing?" repeated Ron.

"Yeah, judges and audience have already been invited. Yours truly being the honourable judge number one," said Lee, tugging his collar proudly. Hermione's curiosity was growing. _Judges?_

"Sorry there Lee. But Angelina happens to be the honourable first judge," George sent a large wink toward Angelina who smiled and shook her head. "You, my friend, are judge number four," he told Lee.

"Four?! I can't even be number two?" asked Lee resentfully.

"Sorry, my good man, but ladies first. Katie and Alicia come before handsome scum like you. But you are the only male judge, so be honoured we picked you at all," finished George, before biting into a muffin. Lee shrugged his shoulders in resignation, denying George the chance to be chivalrous in front of his girl might cost him. Well, denying _either _twin _anything _might cost him.

Hermione looked back at Fred who looked furious. "I can't believe that you're actually thinking about doing this!" he glared, his face turning purple.

"Not _thinking_, Hermione. Fred's already agreed to it," taunted George.

"NO! I won't allow it," Fred repeated, getting to his feet and clenching his fists at his sides.

"Won't allow it? Good thing you'll be in class then," smirked George, suddenly feeling rather irritated by his twin's choice of girlfriend.

"What are they doing?" Harry asked, and either because Fred was at the end of his tether, or simply because Harry wasn't Ron, Fred answered him.

"These two sodding idiots have it in their heads that they're going to cliff dive into the black lake!" he spat, pointing an accusatory finger across the table.

Harry sputtered and coughed on his juice. "Are you mad?!" he managed, his eyes bugging.

Hermione was beginning to think she was. _What have I just agreed to?! _Fred told her it was too dangerous and firmly protested but she was too proud to listen. "Some have claimed," she answered, trying to be nonchalant.

"It's bloody snowing! You'll freeze!" said Ron in disbelief. "...If you don't die upon impact, that is!"

"Well, thank you for that vote of confidence, _Ronald_." sneered Hermione, nerves temporarily forgotten in the face of Ron's ever present lack of faith in her, whoever's body she was in.

"You three wanna be a little louder? I don't think the teachers heard you," said George. "But at least we'll have a bigger audience," he said waving at the many people watching.

"Maybe I _should_ say it louder. Maybe I should go to the teachers! You could get hurt Her-Fred!" Fred shouted staring intensely into Hermione's eyes.

"Did you guys not listen when I told you of the creatures in there?!" Harry demanded, for once, joining forces with Hermione on one of her missions, or so he thought.

"Relax, mate. It's not like they're swimming in the centre like you were. They'll keep their dives shallow then just head to the beach. They just want to join the polar bear club," explained Lee, placatingly. "And there'll be plenty of people to help if something goes wrong."

"Like if one of them breaks their neck?" offered Ron, his voice dripping in morbid sarcasm. "Hermione's right. You guys can't-"

"Owl the Prophet, Georgie," said Hermione derisively. "This is what _headlines _are made of - _ickle Ronnie _agreeing with Hermione. Finally deciding to play Prefect? Finally grow a pair? Finally stop being such a cowering poltroon that's afraid of his twin brothers? Think you're something now that you can finally stand behind Hermione?! You still don't have a bloody ounce of-" At this, Ron's face flashed scarlet and he made to get to his feet as Fred had done, but Harry clamped a hand on his shoulder and held him down.

"Stop!" Fred commanded, a little unnerved at this first sight of Hermione's vicious vindictiveness. "That was going too far, he's only worried about you. We all are." His voice cracked and to his horror, tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.

Glancing to George and Lee, who both wore slightly stunned expressions as though also not sure if what she'd said had been warranted, Hermione searched frantically for something to say to move the conversation along without actually having to lose face, finally settling on "There's no need to worry about me, I've never failedto do anything I've set my mind to and neither has George."

"We never said that you'd _fail_, we just-" Fred began imploringly, but she cut him off.

"But that's what you think, right?" she retorted angrily, getting to her feet, towering over Fred by a head's length. "You think I can't handle myself. You don't think I have what it takes."

"I _never _said that!" shouted Fred. "I just said-"

"Is there a problem here?" asked Professor McGonagall sharply, appearing on Hermione's left so fast she might have apparated there. Clearly she'd seen the brewing argument from the head table and come to investigate.

"No, Professor," said Hermione, scowling at Fred, who was now looking anywhere but at her. He hadn't had any intention of telling the teachers about the dive, not only would it get George in trouble, but it would draw even more unwanted attention to himself and Hermione. He'd been sure she would cave at the threat, but apparently he didn't know her as well as he'd thought.

"Miss Granger?" Professor McGonagall prompted. _Maybe I should tell her, it might be the only way to stop them. But if they're expelled, how will we switch back? The potion won't be ready 'til tomorrow_. "Miss Granger?" she repeated, taking Fred's silence for an affirmative answer and probing for more information. His eyes flicked from George, who was determinedly staring at a platter of bacon, to Hermione whose face held the same scowl, but whose eyes were full of fear. _I can't_, he thought, _neither of them would forgive me_. Not trusting himself to speak, he simply shook his head. "Then I suggest you take your seats and keep your voices down before I'm forced to give you both detentions," she snapped, giving Fred a brief look of disappointment before marching away.

He took his seat next to a quiet by still fuming Ron, and stared nervously up at Hermione like it might be the last time he would see her. _Please don't do it_, he beseeched her silently, his tear filled eyes locked on hers.

"I'm done, George. We should be getting ready," said Hermione, staring defiantly at Fred. She took one last drink of juice and left the hall with George and Lee. She didn't know why exactly she agreed, but she knew that it all had to do with her pride. Something in the way Fred tried to protect her rubbed her the wrong way. The whole thing had been his idea. He would have done it himself, but thought that it was too dangerous for her, that she couldn't handle it like him. Like she wasn't brave enough. She had proven to herself over the last week that she was more capable when it came to magic than even she knew and now she was going to prove she had the _daring _and _nerve _that the sorting hat had talked about all the way back in her first year. She was going to prove she was a _true _Gryffindor.

An hour and a half later Hermione rounded the corner of the greenhouses on the south side of the castle. She walked along a tall cliff overlooking the black lake, following close behind George and Lee. The light blanket of snow crunched beneath her large shoes, each rhythmic step accompanied by the words _You're mental _echoing in her head. Looking over George's left shoulder she saw a large group of students ranging from first years to seventh years, from all four houses, waiting for them. All of them, like her, were bundled in winter cloaks, hats, and scarves.

"Good turn out," smiled Lee. "Hermione's announcement really did gather attention."

"We'll have to thank her later," chuckled George, raising his arms in triumph as the crowd broke into applause at their approach. Hermione however was too preoccupied by her heartbeat speeding up and keeping time with her frantic _'you're mental'_ chant that was now throbbing in her ears. "Alright, Fred?" came a voice as though from far away. "You're not really thinking of backing out are you?" She knew George wasn't taunting her, she could hear the genuine concern in his quiet tone.

"No. I'm good," Hermione responded finally, trying to cover her apprehension with fake confidence, something at which she was notoriously poor.

George got closer so that only Hermione could hear. "You know I was just playing with Hermione when I said you couldn't back out, right? If you are really having second thoughts-"

"Are you kidding?" Hermione said heartily. "Are you trying to pin your own cold feet on me?" Noticing the flicker of mischief return to George's eyes, she wasn't sure if she was relieved or troubled that she'd managed to convince him.

George's face cracked into a sly smile. "Oh ho. So you _are_ ready to play." He turned and addressed the group at large. "Alright! Now that _we've_ arrived and our lovely..." he shot Lee an appraising look, " er... our _four_ judges stand ready, let's kick this thing off!" the spectating students cheered, a few of them half laughing.

"Allow us to introduce our four honoured judges!" Hermione shouted like George, hoping to bluff her way through as she'd done with the prank.

"Our first, and most honoured judge," beamed George, kissing Angelina's hand. "The delectable, Angelina Johnson!"

"Next," called Hermione over the loud clapping, ignoring her hammering heart and focussing on her performance as Fred, "The lovely Katie Bell!"

"Our third judge: the beautiful Alicia Spinnet!"

"Last, and most definitely _least_, this ugly bloke..." Hermione received a rough elbow in the ribs. "Lee Jordan," she announced. As soon as she said it, it hit her. _Where'd that come from? _She never would have said something like that before. When did she become a jokester and a showman? When did she actually become Fred Weasley? _I'm not, _she realised_._ _I talk like him, I act like him, but I'm not Fred! I don't have his nerve_. Panic crashed over her. _This is crazy! I'm Crazy! I shouldn't be here. I need to get out of this_.

"Now, scoring for this event will be out of ten!" announced Lee. "Highest scorer will have his name carved upon this rock, alongside those of the other Polar Bear Club members!" Hermione scanned the list of names, coming to a dead stop at _1977 - Sirius O. Black. I'll kill him!_ She seethed, _I bet he put them up to this_. "This is a great honour! Because only _one_ seventh year in each class is considered worthy of admittance into this prestigious association!" continued Lee. _Prestigious association my eye_, Hermione inwardly grumbled. "In event of a tie... we choose... hey kid, what's your name?"

"Um, Dennis Cree-"

"Dennis of Gryffindor!" Lee boomed, "Our randomly selected galleon flipper!" _Oh for Merlin's Sake! Is he saying this could all come down to the toss of a coin? It's looking even more pointless by the minute!_ "Our contenders, of which there are only two this year, will be scored on both creativity and execution. And without further ado - the amazing Weasley Twins: Fred and George."

George raised his arms again to the crowd, receiving a warm round of applause. Hermione fixed her face to match his and followed suit. It meant nothing. She wanted to accept the glory and praise as Fred would have, but she didn't _feel _it. She was absolutely terrified, possibly even more than Harry had been when he heard he was facing a dragon in the Triwizard Tournament. She was in the process of deciding whether or not facing a Hungarian Horntail would be preferable to diving off a cliff into a freezing cold lake in the middle of November, when her time ran out.

"Alright boys, who goes first?" asked Katie.

"Rochambeau you for it," said George as though it were an honour to be won.

Hermione nodded her head in agreement, afraid that if she opened her mouth she wouldn't be able to speak again. She felt her stomach becoming heavy. The blood drained from her face making her incredibly pale despite the cold wind that stung her nose and cheeks. She desperately wanted to do this, and desperately wanted to turn tail and run. She put up a brave face, she was a Gryffindor after all, but she felt ready to bolt at any moment.

"Rock, Paper, Scissors..." said George. He narrowed his eyes when Hermione's scissors beat his paper.

"Rock, Paper, Scissors..." Two fists held firm in between their bodies.

"Rock, Paper, Scissors..." George pouted at his fist. Hermione stared at her open hand as if it had betrayed her, dread adding tremendous weight to her lead filled guts. She'd won the right to jump first. She turned around and stared at the Greenhouses. This was her last chance to turn back.

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**Left with a cliffhanger - literally.**

**So what do you think? Will she run, faint, or jump?**

**Let me know what you thought of the chapter! Please review!**


	19. Pride and Regret

**Wow, it's incredible how many of you want Hermione to throw herself off a cliff! LoL Hope I haven't left you waiting too impatiently. I try to post daily, but this chapter needed extra work. It's a lot longer than most of my chapters, and I hope well worth the wait.**

**Everyone give an extra thanks to Binka Fudge. This chapter wouldn't be nearly as good without her help! You're awesome Binka!

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Hermione, her eyes still fixed on the greenhouses, took a long slow, deep breath, as though hoping to absorb strength and courage from the air around her. Stoically removing her scarf and cloak, she handed them to George, then, staring resolutely at the ground, not daring to look at the cliff or meet anyone's eye, she proceeded to undress, torpidly removing her hat, jumper, and shirt. Glancing up at George, who looked a little apprehensive now, despite all his bravado, she rested a hand on his shoulder for balance and slipped off her shoes and socks, standing on top of them so as not to step into the snow just yet. The wind blew past causing her to shiver and goose pimples to erupt over her body. She undid her belt and slid out of her trousers, lying them on top of the rest of her clothes, now draped haphazardly over George's left arm. Hermione was very aware of her heart beating hard in her chest. She turned to the crowd, trying desperately to hide her terror. She slowly and determinedly took the first step off of her shoes and walked to the edge of the cliff like a man to the gallows. The cold snow bit her feet at each touch. She took one last look at the excited students then focussed her mind on the task in front of her.

Her frozen toes hung over the crumbling dirt of the cliff's edge and she stared at the cold black water far below her. _Forget McGonagall telling me I've failed everything, why didn't my boggart turn into this?_ She closed her eyes tight and concentrated on her ragged breaths, which hit the air in a freezing mist in front of her face. _Think of something else, mind over matter, you're warm, you're content._ A patronus worthy picture swam across the inside of her eyelids, the common room fire, but from an angle. Her head was resting in someone's lap and they were stroking her hair comfortingly. _Fred_, she realised. _The sooner I dive,_ _the sooner I can get back there… if he'll still have me_.

Taking one last deep breath, filling her lungs with frigid November air, she slowly bent her trembling knees and brought her hands out in front of her, the right one tightly clasping her wand. She had not dived properly since she was on the swim team in elementary school years ago. _Too late to take that refresher course now_. Screaming internally, thoughts of her friends, her parents and Fred swirling in her brain, she jumped away from the cliff.

Her body shot toward the water below like a bullet, most of her insides, she was certain, still perched precariously on the edge of the cliff. Giving her wand a slight flick and praying she'd got the spell right, she felt her speed decrease significantly and gave a mental _Thank Merlin _in relief. _Now for the tricky part_, she thought wryly. She pulled her legs into a tightly tucked somersault then brought it out to a stiff half twist. _Not bad for an amateur_. Returning to her head first dive, she sent a flock of red and gold birds from the tip of her wand, watching them retrace her path through the air out of the corner of her eye. _How's that for creativity?_ The water was rapidly drawing closer; her reflection grew clearer and larger with every second, Fred's red hair shining up at her like a beacon of hope. _Almost there_, she chanted to herself as she held her arms stiff in front of her and squeezed her eyes shut. She was very conscious of her fingertips touching the surface, she wondered if this was what Alice felt when she pushed through the looking glass. The rest of her body entered without notice however, the sensation perhaps drowned out by the roaring of water in her ears. The next thing she knew, the cold and dark were pressing in on her from all sides, trying to squeeze the air from her lungs and stinging her skin like hundreds of biting insects. _Up, up, up, _was the only thought her mind allowed. Kicking her legs hard, she clawed her way to the surface, the barely distinguishable grey ahead her only indication of which way was up.

That first gulp of fresh air, the painful slap of the wind on her face and the sound of tumultuous applause from above was pure ecstasy. _L__ike being reborn_, thought Hermione as she let the cheers and whoops of the crowd ripple over her like a river over stones, washing away all the anxiety of the morning. Finally, her brain registering something other than her miraculous survival, a light bulb flashed on in her freezing, waterlogged head, illuminating three words, _I did it_.

"YES!" she screamed, punching the air in triumph. _Take that world!_

Craning her neck to look up at her adoring audience, though she'd sworn on her way outside that she would not look at the score as staying alive was her only objective, she couldn't help but see the large red numbers blazing over the crowd: 10, 9, 8, 9. She made to smile but it came out as a grimace. The excitement all over and done with, her adrenaline had drained away and the coldness of the water pushed its way to the forefront of her mind. _It burns, Oh Merlin does it burn!_ Her breath came out in quick shallow puffs of steam on the freezing wind. The water seemed to be forcing the air out of her lungs like toothpaste from a tube. Concentrating all of her efforts, she started swimming with deep rhythmic strokes, longing for the shore. The icy water stabbing her skin over and over, she forced herself to think on much more pleasant things. Again she remembered an evening shared with Fred, last night in fact, when they'd sneaked down to the kitchens and sat in front of the fireplace drinking steaming cups of hot cocoa and eating leftover cream puffs from dinner.

Hermione gasped in surprised relief as her feet hit the lake bottom, the silt moulding round them, pushing up between her toes as she put her full weight down. She moved as fast as her stiff and aching legs would allow, wrapping her arms around her chest in a futile attempt to get warm. She stumbled twice over the slippery rocks, grazing her already sore feet, but at least managed to keep her balance. A large gust of wind then swept past, causing her already shivering body to shudder violently and bring her to her knees. She grimaced and inwardly groaned as blood started pouring from a gash on her left knee. _After all these years getting into scrapes with Harry and Ron and I still don't know any simple healing spells._

So busy was she berating herself, she failed to notice that her applause had petered out. Struggling to her feet and wincing in pain, she finally became aware of the ominous silence. Turning to the cliff and finding it deserted, she scanned the grounds, wondering if everyone was making there way down to congratulate her. She couldn't have been further off the mark. As her eyes came to the top of the path down to the beach, the path she was currently climbing, she spotted one solitary figure, arms crossed, eyes narrowed and mouth thinner than she'd ever seen it. Hermione's heart stopped.

"Come with me, Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonagall ordered curtly.

Utterly petrified, Hermione staggered up the stony path, no longer feeling the cuts and scratches on her bare feet. _Oh Merlin. Oh Merlin! OH MERLIN!_ was all her punch-drunk mind could come up with. Professor McGonagall didn't speak again as Hermione reached her; she simply spun on her heel and marched off toward the castle, expecting Hermione to follow. An intense loneliness came over Hermione just then and she found herself wishing that Fred was there, murmuring comforting words and holding her hand in support. _But would he have offered me those things right now?_ she thought sadly, traipsing across the grounds in the irate teachers wake. _He was against me doing this from the start._ Then dread stopped her in her tracks as Fred's words from breakfast came unbidden into her mind. _"Maybe I _should_ say it louder. Maybe I should go to the teachers!"_ But she shoved them aside as soon as they'd come. _No,_ she thought fervently, _He wouldn't. He'd never tell, not on George... or me._

"Weasley!" bellowed Professor McGonagall, who was already halfway to the front doors and at least sixty feet ahead of Hermione.

Startled from her thoughts, Hermione set off once more, the blue striped boxers she'd dived in now crackling with every step. Looking down she discovered that they were frosting over. Reaching up and running a hand through her short ginger hair, she found that it too was reacting to the cold; it was even frozen solid in some places. _I wish I had my clothes._ She folded her arms over her chest and clenched her jaw to stop her teeth chattering. _Just my trousers would do_. Deciding that sprinting the rest of the way would get her in even more trouble and adding the warming charm to her growing list of 'need to know's'. _That's if I'm not expelled,_ she thought bitterly, Hermione silently urged McGonagall to pick up the pace.

Entering the castle was an amazing relief. She was so grateful for the slight increase in temperature and shelter from the wind, that she couldn't have cared less about the many gawping students who lined the corridors. _It'll be something to tell the grandchildren, how I, one of the biggest prudes in history, disguised myself as a Weasley twin and strolled through the school in broad daylight, in naught but a pair of sodden boxers._ She almost smiled at the thought, but then remembered that she was sixteen and not sixty, and there were no grandchildren as of yet, and she was at present in more trouble than her brain could comprehend. She paused as she reached McGonagall's office door, but her Professor kept on walking.

"Um...where are we going?" Hermione asked timidly as she caught up.

"To see the headmaster," came the stony reply.

Hermione almost heard the ground crack as her world split in two. She began to wish it had, as she was led up the stairs to the seventh floor. _Sinking into the floor would suit me fine right about now,_ she said inwardly, hoping someone was listening. She had _never_ been sent to the Headmaster's office before, at least not to be disciplined. _Fred warned me against doing this, why didn't I listen to him? And he's the one in trouble, all because of my selfish pride._ Her head bowed in guilt and terror. She would rather jump from that cliff a hundred more times than to go to Professor Dumbledore.

"Pro-Pro-Professor…" Hermione shivered. Professor McGonagall turned her head slightly to one side, showing that she was listening but would not face her. "I…" Hermione turned on the spot and retched over the polished floor.

"Your skiving tricks won't save you today, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall said heatedly. A wave of her wand vanished the puddle of sick. _Does it look like I'm carrying sweets?'_ Hermione thought bitterly. _'Oh Fred…I need you.'_ Hermione felt warm tears begin to sting her eyes.

"Ice Mice," said Professor McGonagall smartly to a large gargoyle in front of them. The gargoyle leapt to the side, the wall behind it splitting in two to reveal a moving spiral staircase. They ascended together, the motion not helping Hermione's upset stomach one jot. Professor McGonagall rapped upon the hard worn wood of the large oak door. _Any time now Lord_ thought Hermione, raising her eyes to the ceiling, but she wasn't sucked into a vortex, or struck by a bolt of lightening and a time turner didn't suddenly appear out of thin air. In fact the only answer to her desperate silent plea was...

"Come in," At this Hermione's first tears broke free. "Ah, Minerva. To what do I owe the honour of your visit?"

"Mr. Weasley here decided that today would be a pleasant day for a swim," said McGonagall irritably, gesturing to Hermione without bothering to look at her.

"Rather cold, in my opinion, but to my knowledge, not against the rules," Dumbledore said calmly, offering Hermione a small smile, apparently indifferent to his deputy head's rising temper.

"What about diving head first off the cliff behind the greenhouses?" Professor McGonagall argued stubbornly.

"Ah… well that would be something different," Dumbledore looked up into Hermione's face for the first time and noticed her pained expression and red rimmed eyes. "Would you mind giving us a few minutes, Minerva?"

Professor McGonagall looked dejected and, if possible, angrier. "Of course," she said politely. She stepped back in surprise at the look on Hermione's face but continued out the door.

Professor Dumbledore conjured a fluffy purple bathrobe and handed it to Hermione. "Take a seat Fred," he said kindly, flicking his wand again, this time to produce a squashy chintz armchair.

"Th-thank you," Hermione whimpered, clumsily slipping on the robe and huddling awkwardly on the edge of the seat.

Dumbledore sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers, peering curiously over his half moon spectacles at the visibly distraught boy sitting in front of him. "How about a cup of tea?"

"Um… yes, please." Hermione managed, completely baffled by the courtesy she was receiving.

"Your usual?" he asked.

"Er… yes," Hermione squeaked. _Usual? How often is Fred in here? Never mind, stupid question._ With a simple wave of his hand, Dumbledore conjured a steaming cup of tea and handed it to Hermione. Her cold arm shook as she reached out and fumbled the tea cup and saucer with numb fingers. Marvelling at Dumbledore's use of wandless magic, she took a tentative sip and grimaced. It was liquorice tea – _I hate liquorice._

"Something wrong?" Dumbledore asked.

"No. No, just hot," Hermione explained. She tried hard to keep her composure but she knew that she had lost it before she even set foot in the office. It was over. She messed everything up. Dumbledore was scrutinizing her with those deep, drawing blue eyes and she cracked. The dam broke and a steady spate of tears streamed down her freckled cheeks.

"Fred, is there anything that you'd like to tell me?" Dumbledore said softly, almost hypnotically.

Hermione nodded. "I-I'm…I'm not Fred." _What the hell have you done?! You're really in for it now. But you can't let Fred take the fall for your actions…_her mind argued.

"I see," said Dumbledore simply. "Then I think that this would be a good time to fetch him. Am I correct in assuming that she will be found in the fifth year charms class at the moment?" Hermione nodded again, tears dripping straight from her eyes into her lap. "If you'll excuse me a moment?" Dumbledore stood up from his high winged armchair and crossed the room. As he passed Hermione's chair, a warm breeze circled her head. While he was busy speaking to a very confused Professor McGonagall, Hermione raised a trembling hand to her hair, it was bone dry. He turned and entered the room again. "We'll just wait until they arrive. Now," he said pleasantly, retaking his position behind the desk. "How do you take your tea, Miss Granger?" Hermione buried her face in her hands, unable to speak. "Please, Hermione. Nothing has happened yet. Calm yourself and allow me to get you a cup of tea." Hermione took a deep breath, but still kept her silence. _Anything you say can and will be used against you,_ flashed through her mind. _Don't be daft, you've been watching too much TV, how on earth would telling him how you take your tea incriminate you?_ "I find taking tea with lemon and honey particularly soothing, perhaps you'd like to try?" Another silent nod and a wave of a hand later and she was sitting quietly sipping tea, pointedly avoiding the headmaster's eyes as they waited.

Fred stepped into the room looking nervous and confused, but any questions he might have had were answered with one look at the trembling redhead in the chair in front of him. Professor McGonagall stepped in behind him and closed the door with a firm snap. "Miss Granger, Headmaster," she presented, then crossed the room and stood to the right of Professor Dumbledore's large desk.

"Welcome, Fred," Dumbledore said in a soft voice. Fred just nodded, his long curls bobbing as he did so.

"Fred?" asked McGonagall perplexed.

Fred glanced at her then back to Hermione. One look at him caused Hermione's tears to return. He knelt in front of her chair and stared at her with great concern. "Hermione, are you all right?"

"Her- Hermione?" McGonagall asked faintly, the bewildered expression looking quite out of place on her usually stern and confident face.

"Hermione, look at me. Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Fred asked again. Hermione locked eyes with him and shook her head.

"I think that it is time for explanations," stated Dumbledore.

Fred got to his feet and smoothed his skirt. He looked at Dumbledore and back to Hermione. Gently he reached out and stroked Hermione's ruffled hair. She closed her eyes, soothed by his gentle touch. Angry or not, Fred was still there for her. "It was an accident," he said at last. "There was a potion mix up. It was my fault. It was an accident." He looked up at Dumbledore, his face full of guilt and worry. Dumbledore sat quietly so Fred continued. "It was a soul-switching potion." Professor McGonagall gasped. "I drank it by mistake. Hermione saved me by drinking some herself."

"Does anyone else know about this?" Dumbledore asked quietly, sitting back in his chair and staring at them over steepled fingers.

"My sister, Ginny. She's uh…rather observant. But no one else knows… not even George," Fred said sadly. It hurt him to keep such a large secret from his twin. This week felt so empty without his brother. He was awakened from his thoughts as Hermione attempted to stifle a cough.

"And when did this occur?" Dumbledore pressed.

"Wednesday night," Fred answered.

"Wednesday!… but… And you didn't tell anyone?!" bit Professor McGonagall, clearly back to her usual self. Fred looked down at the floor. "And what were you planning to do? Stay like this?"

"We're brewing another potion right now," he answered.

"Another potion?" McGonagall breathed. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?!" she exclaimed. "Not to mention it being illegal!"

Fred nodded. "Yes, which is why we didn't say anything. We thought if we could switch back without notice we might avoid punishment."

"You were only worried about punishment?! If the potion isn't brewed properly it could mean your lives! Your souls! What on earth were you thinking?! Which one of you brewed it?" Fred and Hermione exchanged glances and both kept tenaciously silent.

"Right now, I believe, is not the time to point fingers," said Dumbledore, giving Professor McGonagall a warning glance. "Right now we should concentrate on resolving the issue at hand. You said that you have been brewing another potion."

"Yes. Since Wednesday morning. It should be ready tomorrow," answered Fred. "It's in my- _Hermione's_ dorm."

"Minerva, I'm going to ask that you go retrieve that potion for us. I will personally examine it. If it is going well, I will continue brewing it myself. Also, I think I will have a word with Ginny Weasley. In the meantime, I would like the both of you to stay in one of the empty teachers' quarters until you are back in your own bodies. You will be excused from your classes. I will have your things brought to you, as well as your meals." Fred and Hermione nodded together. "Good, that's settled then." Dumbledore beamed like a tall thin Father Christmas who'd overdosed on eggnog and sprang to his feet. "Minerva, I'll see you and Miss Weasley back here in half an hour with the potion. You two, follow me." Fred offered his hand to Hermione, which she gladly took, and followed the headmaster from the room.

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	20. Isolation

As they wandered along corridors, through secret passage ways and down staircases, Dumbledore played the genial tour guide, introducing portraits, statues, and suits of armour as they went. Fred did his best to listen and make comments, but found it difficult not to get distracted by Hermione's almost painful grip on his left hand. She hadn't uttered a single word since he'd first set eyes on her in the Headmasters' office and he was getting rather worried. His frequent attempts to catch her eye went unnoticed; her head was bent so low and tucked so far into the collar of that absurdly oversized purple robe that he'd be surprised if she could see anything at all. So intent was he on the silent figure, hobbling bare footed beside him, that he almost stumbled headlong into Dumbledore, who'd stopped abruptly next to a portrait somewhere near the kitchens. Taking a hasty step back and leaning to one side, Fred found himself staring at a large portrait of a beautiful young woman who appeared to have lived sometime in the 19th Century. She sat rigidly in an expensive looking emerald gown, tied at the neck with a lacy white scarf. Her long red hair hung behind her shoulders in tight ringlets, decorated with a circlet of white ribbon and lace.

"Ah, Gretchen," Dumbledore greeted cheerily, his eyes twinkling. "I know that it has been quite a long time, but I believe we are in need of your services for the next couple of days,"

"Of course, Headmaster. It would be my pleasure," smiled the young lady.

"These will be your room's occupants, Fred and Hermione," Dumbledore continued, stepping smartly aside and presenting them with a generous sweep of his arm.

"Password please?" asked Gretchen sweetly.

Fred was surprised to see the headmaster looking at him expectantly. "Me?"

"Yes. Only the room's occupants have the right to choose a password," explained Dumbledore brightly.

"Oh, um…" Fred paused and looked to Hermione, but she just continued her avid study of the stone floor. "Mischief Managed," he blurted out, speaking the first thing that came to mind. Gretchen winked and the portrait swung forward, much like the entrance to the Gryffindor common room, revealing a large doorway. Fred and Hermione stepped into a spacious, well-kept sitting room, feeling as though they'd gone back in time a few centuries. The entire room was cluttered to the point of cosiness, with antique rugs, portraits, and highly polished intricately carved Victorian style furniture. On the wall directly in front of them was a magnificent fireplace, a comfortable looking red velvet sofa with polished cherry wood legs drawn up to it, flanked by two matching armchairs angled toward the merrily crackling fire.

"The bedroom is to the left where you will find two single beds, and the bathroom is to your right. I regret having to ask you to stay in isolation, but considering the trouble that you two have managed to get yourselves into this week, I feel that it is best for all concerned if you remain here until your little accident can be rectified and I have had time to consider the matter. I ask that you please do not leave the confines of these rooms. Your things will be brought in shortly, and your meals provided. If there is anything else you require, you only need call for 'Jimmy'. Right then." he beamed and clasped his hands. "I think that's everything. I'll leave you to get settled in, shall I?."

"Wait," called Fred, after Dumbledore's retreating back. "Jimmy? Who's J-?"

CRACK!

A tiny house elf appeared in the centre of the room, wearing a white towel with the Hogwarts' crest as a toga and playing nervously with his fingers. "You is calling for Jimmy, Miss?" he squeaked up at Fred.

"This is Jimmy. He will see to your needs," explained Dumbledore, peering down at the young elf fondly. Fred looked slightly amused, a lopsided smile tugging at his lips. He'd always wondered what it would be like to have his own house elf. Hermione, though extremely distraught, still found the energy to glare at Fred. She might have also glared at Dumbledore if she weren't determinedly avoiding his gaze.

"Thank you," she managed in a barely audible whisper, her eyes fixed somewhere around the region of Dumbledore's knees.

"Yes, thank you, Sir," echoed Fred. Dumbledore inclined his head with a slight smile and let himself out. As soon as the portrait swung shut, Fred turned his attention to Hermione, taking both her hands in his and searching her face. "Are you alright, Love?" she just nodded wearily. "Of course you're not… But you will be. Everything will be alright."

"You can't know that…" Hermione said quietly, dropping her eyes to their clasped hands.

"But I do. Everything will turn out okay. I promise." He lifted her right hand and lightly brushed his lips over her knuckles. "Dumbledore is a fair man. He won't be too hard on you. I know it."

Hermione forced a small mirthless smile. "I hope you're right…"

"Of course I am," Fred affirmed, reaching up and gently palming Hermione's cold freckled cheek. "Now you are absolutely freezing. Why don't I go draw you a hot bath?"

"Fred..." Hermione started timidly, still avoiding his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he replied simply, smoothing his thumb under her eye to wipe away the solitary tear that had escaped.

"No, really. I messed everything up. I should have never gone through with it and even more... at breakfast... I should never have-" she babbled.

"Don't, Hermione. It's okay. Really. You had every right to feel the way you did. I was just worried about you. I knew you'd be fine... but just the thought that something could go wrong... I just wanted to protect you." He was now cupping her face with both hands, trying in vane to meet her gaze.

"I know. And I'm s-s-sorry," Hermione shivered.

"Forgotten, all forgotten." he soothed. "Now let me draw that bath for you before you end up in the hospital wing." he half joked, playfully patting her cheeks. Hermione nodded again and looked down at the small house elf that was watching them with interest. Fred chuckled to himself. He had completely forgotten that he was there. "Um, Jimmy… Are there towels, soap, and shampoo in the bathroom?" he asked.

"Jimmy will fetches'em right away, Miss," the elf smiled broadly.

"We're also going to need our trunks and clothes," added Fred thoughtfully.

"Of course, Miss."

CRACK!

Fred strode into the bathroom and did a double take. It was almost as extravagant as the prefects' bathroom, decorated in peaches and pale greens, with a portrait of a phoenix hung directly opposite the door. Not really sure which taps to try, he turned on the two set with peach and green stones to match the décor and filled the swimming pool sized tub with a weakly tinted cut lawn smelling liquid, clouds of swirling peach blossom scent drifting over the surface.

Thirty minutes later, Hermione looked down at her pruned fingers and decided that she had lingered long enough in the hot water and reluctantly pulled the plug. Dressing quickly in the blue paisley pyjama bottoms and white polo-neck sweater Fred had left her on the bench, and snuggling back into the fluffy purple robe that she was seriously contemplating keeping, she padded out into the sitting room. "Pyjamas?" she asked Fred, who was sprawled on the sofa with his head on a cushion. "It's only mid-morning."

"I thought they'd make you feel more comfortable. And it's not like we're going anywhere." Fred smiled. Hermione looked down at her bare feet. She didn't like be reminded that they were being forced to remain in isolation. "Hey, it's alright. This could be heaps worse."

Hermione really didn't want to discuss it. "Always blue," she said, gesturing to her pyjama bottoms.

"It's my colour," Fred stated simply. "Mum's got us colour-coded you know. Makes laundry easier for her. But I like blue. Just like you seem to favour lavender," he said, tugging at his lavender shirt and matching plaid pyjama bottoms.

"I never thought how difficult laundry must be at The Burrow," Hermione chuckled. Fred sat up and patted the sofa in invitation and she flopped onto it with a sigh.

"None of us really think about it. Mum manages." he yawned. "That's why we always get the same jumpers for Christmas every year. Bill's got black." he began counting them off on his fingers. "Charlie's brown, Percy's 'indigo' he refuses to admit it's purple, George is yellow, I'm blue, Ron's Maroon, and Ginny's pink. Oh and I guess Harry's got green."

"So what happens when things are passed down the line? Don't the colours get all mixed up?" At Fred's puzzled frown she clarified. "Ron's always saying he never gets anything new." Fred scowled and she wondered why she hadn't ever considered screening her thoughts before saying them out loud.

"Ron tends to over exaggerate." he said gruffly. "It's mainly only school stuff we share, books, robes and the like." Then a slight smirk crossed his lips and he continued. "But if worst did come to worst and one of us ended up with Bills old jumper, then don't you think a simple colour change charm would do the trick?" Hermione blushed profusely. Now grinning like a Cheshire cat, Fred patted her knee comfortingly.

"Ow!" she yelped, jerking away from him.

"What's wrong? What'd I do?" he pleaded, sitting bolt upright, his cushion falling to the floor with a soft flump.

"Nothing. You didn't do anything." she grimaced. "I'm just a little tender after this morning."

"People don't yell like that if they're _a little tender_." Fred protested. "There's something wrong with your leg, isn't there? You told me you weren't hurt," he accused.

"Honestly Fred, it's just a scrape, I'm fine." she insisted.

"Roll up your trouser leg." Fred ordered, but she just stared at him incredulously. Drawing his wand he repeated, "Roll it up, or I vanish them completely." Pouting adorably, she grudgingly complied and Fred gasped. "Just a scrape?" he breathed, sounding almost tearful. "Got a serious gift for understatement there, haven't you? Hold still."

"Whoa! What are you doing?" Hermione pushed his wand away.

"I'm healing this bloody great hole in your leg before it gets infected." Fred glared, his jaw set. "Now _hold still _or I'll use the full body bind." Waving his wand once across the wound, "Antiseptic charm." he muttered at her raised eyebrow, then twirling it in a complicated pattern, Hermione felt an intense itching as her flesh knitted back together, leaving only a very faint pink line. "There, good as new. Want to test it out to make sure your leg won't fall off?" he asked sarcastically.

"I'm sure that won't be necessary." she mumbled abashed. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." Fred said rather primly, slipping his wand back into his PJ pocket.

"How'd you know that spell anyway?" Hermione asked curiously.

"I know quite a few basic healing charms. You pick them up quite fast when they've been used on you more than a dozen times." he said casually.

"Would,...would you teach me?" she whispered. His smile now back on full beam, Fred whipped out his wand again and spent three quarters of an hour coaching Hermione on the correct wand movements and accurate pronunciation for at least seven different healing spells. _He'd make a wonderful Professor_, she thought, but decided not to give voice to this opinion, in case she upset the apple cart _again_. They were just about to go over the theory of bone mending, when...

CRACK!

"Jimmy is bringing lunch, Sir and Miss."

"Oh, is it that time already?" Hermione asked distractedly and the excited elf bobbed his head enthusiastically.

"It really is true, time does fly when you're having fun." Fred mused.

After second helpings of a mouth-watering roast beef dinner, and two bowls of rice pudding, Fred and Hermione offered their thanks and compliments to Jimmy, who assured them he'd pass their kind words on to the other house elves before disapparating with a pile of dirty dishes. The contented pair settled back down on the sofa, slightly sleepy and stuffed full to burst, and Fred pulled her to slouch against him in the corner and threw a warm blanket over them both. Hermione stared into the fire and breathed deeply. Her whole world had spun so quickly that morning that she hardly recognized her life at all. This wasn't her body, or her clothes, or her room. It felt like she was in another life in another world. "What are you thinking, Love?" Fred asked, running his fingers through Hermione's soft warm ginger hair.

"That I like it here," she said. Fred smiled warmly and kissed the top of her head. "I like being with you. I just…" she couldn't find the words she was looking for.

"It'd be a lot more comfortable if we had our own bodies," Fred finished for her.

"Yeah, but then I wouldn't be here with you," Hermione blushed furiously, unable to believe that she just said that.

"Then we'll just have to do this again when we've switched back," said Fred decisively.

"But we won't be 'together' anymore," reminded Hermione.

"We're not really 'together' now," He replied. Hermione's heart sank. She tried hard not to let Fred see the hurt she felt by his statement. "What I meant was," Fred whispered against her neck. "That fact doesn't seem to be stopping us." Fred kissed the top of her shoulder.

Hermione's breathing became shallow, her pulse raced and butterflies fluttered around wildly in her stomach. What was he saying? "Fred?" Hermione asked tentatively, hoping he would explain.

"I like being with you, Hermione. That won't change, whoever's body I happen to be in." Hermione turned to face him, her heart fit to burst. She was slightly disappointed when she looked upon her own face. She knew it was him, but it just wasn't the same. "I know, Love," said Fred, perfectly reading the thoughts that must have been showing on her face. "It will feel right tomorrow." He leaned in and kissed her cheek. Hermione blushed and turned back toward the fire, snuggling her cheek into the arm draped over her shoulders.

_Tomorrow. Everything changes tomorrow.

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**Thank you Binka Fudge! She made this chapter so much better. I don't know what I'd do without her!**

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**Side note - I'm having issues with . It won't let me access the stories in my alerts or my reviews without taking the long way around with searches. Is it just me or is it happening to everyone? Makes me grumpy... I'm surprised that it let me post this because it's so screwy. Sorry for whining. Please review.  
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	21. Relentless

"Fu~uck!" yelled George for the fifth time, kicking the wall next to the fireplace and sending the last few occupants of the common room, a bunch of nervous looking second years, running for the cover of their dormitories, leaving their half finished homework behind them. It was well known in Gryffindor Tower that a Weasley in a temper was to be avoided at all costs, particularly the twins, whose experiments were infamous. Nobody in their right mind wanted to become the next tester of WWW merchandise, except perhaps the first years who didn't know any better. "I shouldn't have left!" George berated, tugging at his hair in frustration and returning to his frantic pacing of the very rug on which his twin had ended their mock duel just three short nights ago.

"Why did you then?" Ron asked petulantly from the sofa, where he'd slumped next to Harry, arms folded across his chest, now watching his brother's angry steps through narrowed eyes.

"I told you, it was _a joke_!" George snarled, rounding on Ron. "We just disappeared around the corner so he would come looking for us. If I knew McGonagall was there I wouldn't have left!" His shoulders sagged in defeat, his anger fading to regret. "When I finally came out, they were already half way back to the castle."

"Damn stupid joke if you ask me," spat Ron.

"You know what? Just shut up Ron!" George fumed, his rage returning with full force. "I'd take it back if I could, but I can't,"

"Neither of you should've been out there in the first place," Ron continued unwisely.

"I told you to shut up!" George bellowed, grabbing Ron by the neck of his robes and hoisting him out of his seat.

"George, don't!" Ginny shrieked, looking genuinely frightened. Never had she seen either twin in such a state, they were always so indifferent, even when they were in trouble. That's part of the reason they were her favourites.

"Our brother is in trouble and you just want to shoot your mouth off! We've done a lot of things, some worse than this and we've never been given more than a months worth of detentions. I want to know where he is!" shouted George.

"_Please _George?!" begged Ginny, looking to Harry for help, but Harry had scooted away from the argument, clearly deciding it was a family thing. She seemed to have gotten through to George however, for he dropped Ron and spun away, covering his face with his hands and taking deep, calming breaths.

"Forget about _him_. He had it coming to him. I want to know what all this has to do with Hermione!" Ron flared, getting to his feet and rubbing his throat.

"Why do you think _any _of this has to do with Hermione?" George said through his fingers, facing away from the others in an attempt not to lose his cool again.

"Because McGonagall took her from class right after that! Hermione's _never_ been called out of class," explained Ron.

"That doesn't mean that it's connected. Hermione had nothing to do with-" George whipped around, his eyes narrowing in fury. "She ratted us out! That little…" but he couldn't find an insult strong enough. "_She _told McGonagall!"

"C'mon George, you don't know that," said Harry nervously.

"You heard her though! She said at breakfast that she should tell the teachers. She said that she wouldn't allow it, she-"

"She had the chance when McGonagall came to the table and she said nothing," reminded Harry. "And she was with us all the time." He gestured to himself and Ron.

"That doesn't mean-" George persisted, but he was cut off in mid rant.

"She didn't rat you out!" All three boys turned to Ginny, apparently having forgotten she was even there. "It wasn't _her_! It was _me_. _I_ told McGonagall!" she wailed.

"What?" said George in confusion. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"You were being stupid!" she sobbed. "It's not like you were planning to turn the Slytherins pink, or write 'I don't shower to conserve water' on the back of Snape's robes. You fools could have seriously gotten hurt. I don't want to lose any more brothers," she cried.

"Gin-" George's eyes softened and he scooped her up and took her seat, cradling her in his lap like a child. "Shh, shh, it's alright. We're all fine. And you haven't lost Percy, he's still kicking around somewhere, even if he is a huge git." Ginny gave a small hiccoughy laugh. "Why didn't you say anything? You know you can always come to me and Fred."

"I knew you wouldn't listen to me. I was just worried about them!" she sniffled.

"Them?" asked Harry.

"Yes! Fred and George!" Ginny recovered gracefully, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.

"But then that brings us back to the original question: What did Hermione have to do with it? Where the hell is she?" screeched Ron like a broken record.

"You mean you don't know where she is?" asked Ginny in surprise.

"Do you think if we did we'd be here right now?!" Ron bellowed in exasperation.

"Oh, I just thought…" Ginny's voice trailed off.

"You know where she is!" Harry exclaimed, leaping to his feet and staring at Ginny. "Where is she?"

"I-I can't say," said Ginny quietly, flinching back into George, who gave Harry a stern look.

"So you _do_ know!" accused Ron.

"Yes," Ginny said more quietly still, her eyes fixed on her scuffed shoes.

"You know more than you're letting on," she could feel George's voice rumbling through his chest. "You know things." She bowed her head even lower, now staring at her tear-stained hands in her lap. The last time she'd felt so conflicted was in her first year, when she'd tried to tell them about the Chamber. _Funny_, she thought, _it was Tom stopping me then, but it's __Dumbledore__ now_. "Spill it, Ginny." George ordered and Merlin did she want to. She'd been battling with her conscience all day, wanting to quell their fears, especially George's. She couldn't even remember a time when he and Fred had spent so long apart. She'd almost broken at lunch when he'd come into the great hall with Lee and just sat there, looking pale and lost, he hadn't even acknowledged Angelina. But what was it Dumbledore had said? _"Knowledge in the wrong hands can be dangerous."_ She really hadn't a clue how just telling George, Harry and Ron would hurt, in fact it would shut them all up and draw less attention to the situation. Perhaps this is George's punishment for his part in the fiasco this morning? She really wished she'd gone straight to bed after dinner, it was idiotic to have flirted with temptation by listening to them all argue in circles, their tempers getting more and more heated. She should've known she'd crack eventually, but she'd been so worried for George that her common sense had flown out the window. "Gin'?"

"I can't, okay?" she pleaded, still avoiding eye contact. "They're fine though. We'll be able to see them in a day or two." _No harm in letting them know that_.

"So they _are_ together? This _is_ connected?" pushed Harry.

Ginny mentally kicked herself. She didn't realize that anymore information could have been taken from her statement. "Look, I told you that I can't tell…"

"Who said you can't?" asked George calmly, leaning forward and looking straight into her face. _Dammit! He knows I can't lie to him or Fred, can't kid a kidder._

"Dumbledore. Now I can't talk about it so I'm going to bed," she said firmly, trying unsuccessfully to extricate herself from George's lap.

"But it's only half seven," said Harry.

"You're not going anywhere," said George, locking his arms around her struggling form, pinning hers to her sides in the process. "Where are they?" He seemed to have recovered some of his usual playful demeanour. _Well at least something good's come out of this_. she huffed internally.

"I... don't... know." she panted, ceasing her efforts and lying still. "_Honestly_." she insisted at Harry and Ron's disbelieving looks. "They're just being... detained."

"Here? At Hogwarts?" pressed Harry. Ginny said nothing.

"Harry, get the map!" said George. "If they are here, we'll find them. I want answers." Ginny groaned and put her face in her hands. They were _all_ going to get in trouble now.

* * *

"C'mon! Keep up," said George excitedly. "We're almost there."

"Almost where? There's no room there," Ron grumbled under his breath.

"There has to be a room there, idiot. Dumbledore wouldn't just stick them in the wall," countered George.

"But I thought the map shows all the rooms of Hogwarts," said Harry.

"It shows all the places and secrets that the Marauders knew about. Obviously they didn't know about this room. The room of requirement doesn't show up on the map either," explained George.

"I just thought that was because it's not always there… or that it might be part of the magic of the room itself," admitted Harry.

"Can you guys just keep it down before we get caught," hushed Ginny. "They'll have us in isolation next."

"Relax, we've got the map. No one's anywhere near here. And it's not curfew yet. We have every right to be here," reminded George, completely ignoring his sisters 'Yeah right' expression. "Okay… this is it." George stopped in front of Gretchen's portrait and put on his most winning smile. "Good evening milady, we've come to visit Fred and Hermione. May we gain entrance to the chambers within?" Ron snorted and Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Password?" Gretchen asked in a rather amused tone, smiling prettily down at George.

"Damn," he said, turning back to the others. "It always works for Fred."

"Now what?" asked Ron.

"Well, Dumbledore always uses names of sweets for his passwords. Think we should try?" proposed Harry.

"Sounds good to me," said George.

"But Dumbledore wouldn't make the password," said Ron simply. Everyone looked at him strangely so he continued. "I mean, all passwords have to be set by the room's occupants, right?"

"Do they?" Ginny asked interestedly.

"Yeah," assured Ron. "I mean, Dumbledore and the Heads of House can't make passwords to the common rooms because they don't stay there. That's why the prefects have to make them." Everyone stared in shock at Ron's knowledge. That was something they would expect to hear from Hermione accompanied by one of her catch phrases, like 'Don't you ever read?' or 'It's in Hogwarts, A History.'

"How did you know _that_?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Man, you guys don't have to act so surprised. I am a prefect. I'm supposed to know that," Ron mumbled.

"Okay then. So either Fred or Hermione made the password. Harry and Ron, start trying things you think Hermione would set. Ginny help me figure out what Fred would use," instructed George. The corridor filled with a jumbled mess of words and Gretchen smiled again at their efforts.

"Triwizard Tournament, Mandrakes, Basilisk, Time-Turner, Library, Hogwarts A History, O.W.L.'s, N.E.W.T.'s…"

"Wildfire Whizbangs, Polar Bear Club, Skiving Snackboxes, Guy Fawkes, Bangers and Mash, Greasy Git, Merlin's Pants…"

"Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Polyjuice Potion, House Elves, S.P.E.W., Moonstone…"

"Puking Pastilles, Fainting Fancies, Gred and Forge, Wrackspurts, Willy Wee Wanker, Ogden 's Firewhisky, Purple Knickers, Six Sick Slick Slim Sycamore Saplings…" Everyone stopped and stared at George in amusement of his last attempt. "What? You know it would be so like Fred to choose a tongue twister." George looked at the map in frustration. He could see that his brother was just on the other side of this portrait, but he had no idea how to get in. "Oh no, that Hannah Abbott girl is coming…"

"Quick, wipe the map," ordered Harry.

"Mischief Managed," whispered George, tapping his wand on the parchment.

"Very good," said Gretchen jauntily, swinging open.

"Wh-what?" said George in surprise. "Mischief managed? Mischief managed! Of course! Fred! My Brother, I've come to save you!" he cried bounding into the room, the other three exchanging exasperated looks before following.

Fred and Hermione jumped in surprise and sat up, looking over the back of the sofa rubbing the sleep from their eyes. "George?"

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**You guys are awesome! Thank you so much for your faithful reading and reviews! I never ever expected to receive so many reviews! Actually, not three months ago, I never even let a single soul read any of my stories for fear they weren't any good. LoL**

**Thanks, as always, to Binka Fudge!**

**Please Review!**


	22. Secret's Out

**Thanks for all the reviews! But LoL at the conflicting messages they're sending. Some say that they'll be sad when this story ends and others say 'I can't wait til they switch' LoL. What do you want from me? Anyway - here goes!**

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"George?! What are you doing here?" cried Fred, peering blearily at his brother from over the back of the sofa.

"We came to break you out… " George said matter-of-factly as though it should've been obvious. "But what the hell is this?" He said in confusion.

"What's what?" asked Hermione, mirroring George's expression comically.

"Well, when we heard you two were being _detained_," George emphasised, glancing at Ginny, "we imagined you in a cell with shackles, and here you are in your pyjamas in front of a glowing fire sipping cocoa and eating cream puffs!" exclaimed George.

"You can't be here," said Hermione nervously, her eyes flicking between them. "You could get in so much trouble. We could get in even more trouble. You have to leave."

"Well if this is what trouble looks like, then count me in," said Ron as he looked around the room, his gaze lingering on the food.

"_Seriously_," said Fred. "You _have _to leave."

"No way!" piped Harry. "Not until someone tells us what's going on. Why are you two here?"

"We can't tell you anything," replied Hermione.

"_You _know we can't tell. Why did you let them come, Gin?" demanded Fred.

"Oh, yeah. Blame me," Ginny scowled. "Because we all know how my older brothers follow orders from me. I told them you were fine. I told them not to come and I told them that we couldn't talk about it, but they grabbed the map and insisted on talking to you."

"Well, as you can see, we're fine. Now you have to go! If we're caught…" Hermione worried.

"If you're caught, _what_? We don't even know why you're here! That's all we want," said George.

"And we can't say."

"Well, you better figure out what you _can_ say because we're not leaving until we get answers," insisted Harry, plonking himself down in one of the chairs and folding his arms.

"Damn it! You have no idea how serious this is!" shouted Hermione. "We're already teetering on the edge of expulsion. If we're caught talking to you…" but apparently the thought was too terrible to voice, for she dropped her head into her hands and went quiet.

"He wants to _expel _you?!" Ginny yelled, gaping like a fish. "But… I mean, I know that it's… are you _sure_?"

"No, she's not," said Fred, resting a comforting hand on hermione's back. "She's just worried because he hasn't mentioned our punishment yet."

"She?" smiled George. Fred, Hermione, and Ginny exchanged looks that caused the others to become even more confused. George's smile faded. "That wasn't a slip…" he said, suddenly looking serious.

Hermione and Fred looked at each other. "Well, it's out now…" said Fred resignedly, pushing his long curls behind his ears.

Hermione let out a large sigh of defeat. "I'm not Fred."

"And I'm not Hermione," said Fred. "I'm Fred."

"And I'm Hermione." Hermione ran her fingers through her ginger hair uncomfortably.

"Wait… What?!" Ron asked, his bewildered look passing between them as though he were watching two Quidditch stars playing tennis.

"Polyjuice?" Harry offered.

"No, they switched bodies," explained Ginny simply.

"You knew about _this_?!" Ron bellowed, rounding on his sister and gesturing wildly at Fred and Hermione on the sofa. "For how long?!"

"Since Sunday night," replied Ginny calmly, seemingly unaffected by Ron's outburst.

"SUNDAY?!" George shouted incredulously. "How long have you been like this?!"

"Wednesday night," replied Fred.

"Remember when I fainted in the broom cupboard? And I said I accidentally drank some of Hermione's potion? Well, that's when we changed. Fred left when he fainted and I was there when he woke…"explained Hermione.

"But…How… Why…" Ron couldn't seem to keep his thoughts together.

"Sit down," groaned Fred wearily, conjuring a few extra armchairs. "Jimmy."

CRACK!

Everyone but Hermione gasped in surprise when the house elf arrived suddenly. "Yes, Miss?" Fred cringed at being called 'Miss' in front of his siblings.

"Can you bring some butterbeers for our friends?" asked Fred. "Please?" he added hastily after noticing Hermione's glare.

"Yes Miss, right aways, Miss." beamed Jimmy.

CRACK!

Just five minutes later all of them were gathered comfortably around the fire with a bottle of butterbeer, all ready for explanations.

"Well, as Hermione said… or Fred who is really Hermione. We switched bodies Wednesday night. By accident, of course," explained Fred.

"I was working on a soul-switching potion for my independent study. I meant to test it on the animals I had…

"Only I accidentally drank the potion instead of my butterbeer." admitted Fred.

"Which is why _you_ saw me kiss him, Ginny. The potion wasn't complete; it needed a piece of someone in it."

"Her excuse is that her kiss directed my soul to her body..." he smirked, dodging a playful slap.

"Otherwise it would've been lost." Everyone looked slightly sick at this thought.

"Then she took some of my hair and drank the rest of the potion, so it was a fair trade." Fred grinned.

"It was more to do with the fact that both of our souls in one body would clash horribly." Hermione grimaced.

"Oh I don't know?" Ginny drawled, "You've been getting pretty cosy this week."

"How come you stayed like this for a week though?" Ron cut in.

"We would have switched back right away if we could, but the potion takes a week to brew," explained Hermione.

"And I, being the gallant bloke that I am, kept the lady's secret to protect her honour." Hermione rolled her eyes, but smiled all the same.

George couldn't control his sniggering, "That just sounds so wrong coming out of Hermione's mouth." then, batting away the cushion Fred chucked at him.

"Why didn't you tell any of us?" _Trust Ron to ask_, Fred mentally moaned.

"And what did you mean before, about _protecting Hermione's honour_ anyway?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"He meant using that potion on humans is illegal and I might've ended up in Azkaban." Hermione interpreted. Everyone sobered at this. "And that should answer your question too Ron. The more people who knew, the more chance a teacher would find out."

"Sooo," said Harry, pulling away from thoughts of Azkaban. "Since last Wednesday? So _Fred_ was the one in classes with us?"

"Yep," confirmed Fred.

"Then Hermione was in classes with me," reasoned George. "The armchairs? The _Knickers_?"

"Yes, that was me." Hermione said, wearing a smirk that would've been uncharacteristic on her own face.

"The fireworks?!" George continued. Hermione nodded.

"No way!" said Ron. "This has got to be a joke…"

"No joke, Ronnie," said Fred. "Hermione had to do the prank to keep up appearances."

"All week…" repeated George. "The classes, the meals, the prank, the jokes, the BATHROOM?!"

At this Fred and Hermione blushed deeply, avoiding everyone's eyes. Ginny laughed out loud. "You did say Fred was leaning toward the feminine side of the spectrum!"

"Yeah… I actually got a little nervous about that," admitted Fred.

"So did I!" Hermione blurted, "I thought he'd found out about the potion!"

"He was right in a way, even if he didn't know why." laughed Harry.

Ron had not let go to see the humour yet. "So you've seen each other starkers?!" he yelled heatedly.

"Well, it was a little hard to avoid…" said Hermione.

"You saw _me_ starkers!!!" cried George.

"I looked away! But really, how much different are you than Fred?"

"That's beside the point!"

"I also saw what goes on in the seventh year boys dorm some mornings," Hermione grinned evilly, thinking of the suggestive dancing she'd witnessed. "Gonna get flustered about that too?"

Apparently the answer was yes. George grew as red as the chair he was sitting in. "I'm warning you Hermione, you tell _anyone_..."

"Who me? Would I?" She asked him, just as she'd done to Fred on Saturday. George looked rather shocked. Fred however saw the funny side this time and was grinning broadly. _She's brilliant!_ He thought, not for the first time. Ginny, Ron and Harry were in kinks.

"You wanna... watch out... George." Ron gasped through his guffaws. "She plays you guys better than you do yourselves!"

"Yeah!" chimed in Harry. "And judging by the twin speak earlier, she might be already muscling in on your territory!" George looked even less amused at this.

"Hey," Ginny interrupted, trying to salvage the situation. "I can do a passable imitation of George. How about, once they switch back, you two get brewing polyjuice and 'Mione and I can play stand in?"

"Excellent!" Fred over enthused, "They can be our alibi's if we're suspected of anything. And once we leave and open the shop, they can work our holidays and days off!" George seemed to be cheering somewhat, so the subject was dropped and they spent a few minutes quietly sipping their butterbeers, an occasional giggle or snort escaping into the comfortable silence.

"All week…" said Harry finally, sounding slightly dazed. "So all those arguments…"

"You mean all the times you and Ron were being stupid arrogant pricks?" shot Fred, not wanting to pass up the opportunity. "Yeah, that was me you aimed it at. I was appalled to find out you treat Hermione like that all the time," he glowered.

"Hang on," piped Ron. "Hermione was the one spouting off calling me a coward?"

"Yes, I was!" Hermione snapped bitterly. "And you _know_ you are. That was the first time you ever stood up to Fred and it wasn't even Fred! You _never_ take my side even when I'm someone else!"

Ginny sat watching the exchange quietly, struggling to hide her sniggering, but drew everyone's attention when she burst out laughing at Hermione's last rant. "She's right, you know."

"And that time in the common room?" Harry said weakly.

"Yes Harry," Hermione glared. "That time too."

"So… I punched Hermione?" Ron panicked. "Hermione, I'm so sorry!"

"I still think it's Fred you need to apologise to. You two both accused him of horribly shady motives," insisted Hermione, crossing her arms in front of her chest in a very girlish fashion.

"Sorry…" said Ron and Harry together, sounding only slightly sincere.

"Wait, the brawl then. That was _Fred_ beating the tar outta Malfoy," concluded George. "That makes sense then."

"It was me," admitted Fred. "But don't put it past Hermione. She decked Malfoy two years ago."

"I still can't believe it," said Harry. "How did we not know?"

"Because you're blind," said Ginny. "I'll admit it took me a little while, but the things they said, the way they walked, and they slipped up really good a few times."

"But they were really convincing too," countered Harry. "All the arguments, the times Hermione uh... _Fred_ scolded us. She..._he_ took notes and went to the library."

"Well someone had to keep you in line. And I couldn't act like me if we wanted it to be a secret," replied Fred.

"Fred er... _Hermione_ was even more convincing though! _She _was joking just like Fred. She helped with ideas for Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. She picked on Lee, gave me advise with Angelina, all the times we hung out... like in transfiguration, the armchairs and the jelly beans. The way you were late and talked to the teachers. I don't know if I can believe it. There's no way that was Hermione," George rambled on.

"It was though," said Fred. "She's quite the actress. I loved the duel you guys had." Fred chuckled. "I don't think it was all acting though. I think it was her true self shining through."

"What?!" Hermione bellowed in disbelief.

"Oh, c'mon. It was easier to act like me than it should have been," smirked Fred. "'Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.'"

"Been using that quote of the day toilet paper you bought in Zonko's, have you?" muttered Hermione, but Fred grinned regardless.

"The _truth_ is: you're _all_ idiots," smirked Ginny. Everyone looked taken aback at such a blunt remark. "Fred and Hermione, you did an awesome job, despite all the mistakes you made, only I found out. But you were just lucky. So many little things you overlooked! And all those arguments and fights you had were just screaming 'look at me!' to the whole school! And _you three_..." Ginny tried hard not to laugh as she looked at Harry, Ron, and George. "Don't even get me started on you."

"Alright then smarty pants, how'd you figure it out then?" George asked, turning to Ginny.

"Several things made me suspicious about the both of them but I never put it all together. The thing that absolutely pushed me to accusation was Sunday night when 'Hermione' was going to help me study. Hermione notices things... and Fred doesn't," Ginny chuckled, looking over at Fred. His pleading look told her that he remembered their conversation well. "His blatant obliviousness made it obvious that something was seriously wrong with Hermione. Then when he asked me what I was doing dating a guy like Michael Corner, I absolutely _knew_ it wasn't Hermione. She's the one who suggested I date him in the first place." Noticing Ron and George's narrowing eyes, Ginny briskly turned the spotlight back on them. "But you three! You're their best mates! And in your case, his _twin_. How did you have no suspicions?! Fred suddenly can't remember names of quidditch teams, let alone manoeuvres, but can remember important history dates? Hermione fell asleep in class and called you Ronnie? Their handwriting certainly took a turn. And for heaven's sake, Fred is left-handed!!! George noticed that Fred was writing with his right hand at lunch and just accepted the answer 'I ambidextrous.' While Ron and Harry didn't seem to take any notice at all to Hermione using her left hand? You're blind! I've been waiting, since _before_ Sunday, for someone else to see the weird things I was, but none of you did! And though I'm a friend and a sister, I'm not a best mate or a twin. You guys should have noticed well before me." Ginny finished her rant with a cross of her arms and leaning against the back of her armchair, out of breath and extremely satisfied by all the gaping stares. She had been hiding all of that for days and was thrilled to have the chance to spill it all.

"But... I mean... see... well..." All three boys tried to think of something to say in defence, but couldn't think of a single thing.

"You don't need to respond. 'You're all idiots' was a statement, not a question. But there is one question that's been bothering me all day - how did _Dumbledore_ find out?"

"That was my fault," admitted Hermione. "McGonagall caught me after the jump and took me to Dumbledore. I cracked and began to cry. I told him I wasn't Fred and he guessed who I really was."

"Wait," said Fred. "How did he guess it was you?"

"I've been thinking about that. He didn't really know anything until I said I wasn't _you_. I actually saw the moment he put it all together. The only thing I can figure is that McGonagall went to him about you, or me... er 'Fred' being pulled out of class and he kept a close eye on me."

"Yeah," continued Fred. "That really wasn't smart on my part. After that it'd be easy to put the pieces together. I was out of class the same time you were called out."

"And he saw that heated argument at breakfast," reminded Hermione.

"You don't think the house elves told him we were in the kitchens last night, do you?" Fred asked. All eyes moved back and forth between Fred and Hermione as if watching a volley.

"Probably not, but even if they did the whole school knows we're '_dating_'" Hermione stated. "But if Dumbledore checked with the portraits I bet the fat lady had a lot to say... like me educating you about your period." Fred hid his face in his hands. That was one part of their switch that he never wanted another soul to hear. Though he didn't look he knew that all eyes were on him.

"You had the mensies!?" Ginny exclaimed excitedly. "That's brilliant." she laughed hysterically. "But I thought Hermione was on birth control?"

"WHAT?!" the three boys shouted. Ron looked a dangerous cross between furious and horrified. He looked ready to punch something, and he might have if he weren't in danger of passing out from light headedness. It was Hermione's turn to hide her face.

"Relax, you three. She's not having sex. She does it to skip a period. But it'd be none of your business if she was shagging someone. It will happen eventually." Ginny shook her head in disbelief at how childish boys could be.

"Ew! Ginny! To much information!" Ron practically shrieked.

"I forgot to take the pills... I didn't know the consequence," said Fred, ignoring Ron. "But I bet that was pretty strange from the fat lady's point of view. I bet we probably could have gotten away with it if I hadn't written that note."

"No. I messed up by being called to his office. I couldn't act in that environment. My acting skills were exhausted this week as it was."

"You were really convincing," commended George. "But I guess I should have read the signs. The way you pouted and corrected my grammar. You got a lot angrier than Fred usually does. I should have know you're not ambidextrous. And helping Angelina with homework? I thought she must have been blackmailing you..."

"I just thought that I must have never noticed that Hermione was left-handed," Harry blushed. "I was embarrassed that it took me five years to notice."

"Same," shrugged Ron.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "You'd think after the Mad-Eye Moody impostor that people would be better at spotting a fake."

"Hermione! You jumped off a bloody cliff!" cried George randomly. "What the hell were you thinking?!"

"Thank you!" shouted Fred throwing his hands in the air. "I tried to stop her but she refused to listen to me. And _you _didn't help."

"You could have been killed!" reprimanded George.

"You were fighting on my side this morning!" Hermione argued. "And I did brilliantly, thank you. I highly doubt _you_ could do better," Hermione replied smugly.

"Is that a challenge?" asked George straightening up with a playful smug grin.

"Unbelievable…" said Ron in a stupor. "This has got to be some strange dream…" George slapped his little brother in the head. "Ow!"

"Nope, you're not dreaming," Ginny observed.

"Talking of the Polar Bear Club, We've not had time to carve your name on the rock, Fred." George mused.

"Don't you mean Hermione's name?" Fred corrected.

"How'll that work though?" Ginny asked. "I mean nobody's meant to know you guys switched, so... "

"She's right." Hermione said, not sounding the least bothered. "But I don't really care, at least _I'll know_." Fred smiled and squeezed her hand. He was rather proud of her and, despite what the rock might read, the both of them would always know it was her courage and daring that owned the true honour of the display.

"So if this whole thing was _acting_... then just what is going on between the two of you? Have you really been _snogging_?" Ron asked in disgust, staring at their clasped hands.

"No, we haven't been _snogging_," Hermione said as she rolled her eyes. "I only kissed him that once before we switched, which, like I explained, was to make sure his soul didn't float away."

"So then you two aren't really dating," reasoned Harry.

Fred and Hermione exchanged glances. "We're not really sure," admitted Fred with a shy smile. He squeezed Hermione's hand again and her face turned beetroot red. They were both a little more certain than Fred had let on.

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**Wow! This started out as the smallest chapter but now it's the largest yet! It just got bigger and bigger and bigger again. Pieces got switched around three times... and it got bigger still. One of the additions was how Dumbledore knew it was Hermione - as per request of my reviewers. ^^ And yet another addition brought in per your request was 'who's name is accepted to the polar bear club'**

**Hope you enjoyed it. If you did please review!!! And make sure to thank Binka Fudge!**

**For all of you waiting for the switch - next chapter is it ;)  
**


	23. Worry and Relief

**Sorry everyone for the delay in posting. I assure you it was not on purpose. I've been really sick the last few days. There was no way my brain was in shape to post, let alone edit. This is an extra long chapter though. ^^ Enjoy!

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"Well, this is it," said Fred, staring at the letter in his hands that Jimmy had delivered just moments before. "The potion is done. Dumbledore will be down in a few minutes." Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, her nerves were shot. Fred gently pulled her into a hug and rubbed her back soothingly. "It'll be fine. This is a good thing. You'll have your body back in less than an hour."

"I'm scared." she admitted in a whisper. "What if there's something wrong with the potion and we lose our souls?"

"It'll be fine." He repeated, squeezing her tighter. "Dumbledore wouldn't let us take the potion unless he was certain it'd work."

"I'm so sorry, Fred." she breathed.

"There's nothing to be sorry for, love." He pulled out of the hug and looked up into her face. Despite the shocking red hair, hazel eyes and slight stubble on her jaw, he could see the real Hermione, her terror and regret.

"You could lose your soul and it'd be all my fault," she wailed. "You might've lost it last week if my potion hadn't worked, and I was so awful to you."

"Hey, hey, shh." Fred guided her to the closest armchair and sat her down, propping himself on the arm and hugging her to his chest. "Dumbledore's the best. What'd you call him the other day? _One of the greatest minds of the wizarding world_? And no way would your potion have been anything other than perfect. As for being awful to me, as I recall it, you snogged me silly, so even if something had gone wrong, I'd have died happy."

"Fred!" Hermione admonished, leaping up and rounding on him, her blazing fury evident. "That's not something to _joke_ about!" But he just smirked.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, with a theatrical point in her direction. "There's the 'Mione we all know and love." Her expression softened and she looked rather uncertain.

"That... that so wasn't funny," she mumbled, abashed.

"Oh come on," Fred coaxed, sliding to his feet and cupping her face. "We're still here, aren't we?" but at her continued silence he repeated "_Aren't we?_" She nodded. "There's no point worrying about the past now, we can't change it, and I wouldn't even if I had a time turner." Her look of shock made him chuckle. "This week has been one of the weirdest and most incredible times of my life, and I wouldn't swap it for a vault full of galleons."

"Me neither," she sniffed. It had meant alot to her, Fred saying that, especially since a vault full of galleons would be more than he and George would need to realise their dream of a joke shop.

"Right then," he said brightly and clapped his hands, doing a rather good impression of Dumbledore, despite the lack of twinkling blue eyes and long silver beard. "How about a cup of tea?" Hermione laughed weakly, but still looked troubled. "Look, Hermione. What's _really _bothering you?"

"I don't want to lose you," she said in a barely audible voice. Fred just looked at her for an explanation. She sighed and sank back into the chair." As much as I want to be me again, I can't bear the thought of losing what we've found this week. Whether the potion works or not, it'll happen. Either we'll both lose our souls and end up _Merlin _knows where, or I'll go back to Harry and Ron, and you'll -"

"We've been over this." Fred said impatiently. "And I've told you -"

"You're leaving at the end of this year, Fred. I've still got my O.W.L's and N.E.W.T's to get through." she said hopelessly.

"Ever heard of Owl Post?" smiled Fred, but a joke wasn't going to fix it this time. She needed more from him. He took a long, slow, deep breath, then knelt in front of her, resting his hands on her shoulders. "Look, don't tell anyone this, and I mean _anyone_, but I'm scared too." Hermione stared into his face, searching his eyes. "It'll only happen if _we_ let it and I for one am not about to give up on this relationship we've been building, however you want to define it. If worst comes to worst and our souls float away, I _promise_ I'll grab your celestial hand so we stick together." She smiled at his silliness, but it didn't reach her eyes. "We've still got the rest of this year together. After that, there are loads of ways to keep in touch. Owls, Hogsmeade visits, secret passages..." Hermione gave him a light shove and he almost overbalanced. _I'm getting through to her_. "And I'm not telling you just yet, because we aren't sure if we can do it, but Sirius gave George and I a brilliant idea for direct communication."

"I'm really not sure if I want to hear about it anyway," she said, looking quite disapproving. "Sirius tends to give you the craziest ideas that more often than not get you into the deepest trouble." Fred looked a little surprised. "Don't give me that look either, Fred Weasley. Polar Bear Clubs, Marauders' Maps, _Animagus Transformations_?" Fred's mouth dropped open. "Yes, I_ know_. You shouldn't leave heavily annotated advanced transfiguration books lying around."

"It was only something George and I thought we'd like to try. And we were going to ask McGonagall for help. We _were_!" he insisted at her sceptical expression. "And _this _idea is tame compared to those."

"Really?" Hermione asked, still unsure.

"_Really_. Two way mirrors," Fred beamed. "Sirius has a set, but they're really old, passed down in Harry's dad's family, so he said. We were going to do some tests on them to see exactly how they work and try to duplicate them."

"That's brilliant!" Hermione cried, all wariness forgotten. "I've read about those. They used them centuries ago, some were even made of polished precious stones, depending on what they were used for. They're enchanted by some variation of the protean charm that allows the connection to flow both ways -"

"You're amazing! Do you know that?" he said, in awe. "That'll really narrow the testing down. Once we know how to work them, we're going to develop a whole range of communicators. The mirrors are great, but no good if you have bed hair. Dad showed us some muggle device you put over your ears and talk into, so that'd be ok for just sound." Hermione was entranced by the way his face lit up and his eyes shone as he talked about his products. Never before had she seen him so alive, not even when he'd successfully pulled a prank with George. "Then there's the two way parchment if you don't want anyone to overhear... Hermione?" She snapped back to awareness as his hand swished in front of her face. "You ok?"

"Huh? Uh... Oh!... Yeah!" _Did I have to get the Weasley blush too when I took over Fred's body?_

"You sure?" She just nodded, not trusting herself not to say something embarrassing. "Well lookie there," he gestured to his watch "Dumbledore's taken half an hour already. I guess if you've lived as long as he has, time has less meaning."

"Fred!" Hermione scolded.

"What?" Fred asked, raising his brows in innocent surprise. "He'd tell you the same himself, I'm sure." Having gone full circle, and returned to the topic of Dumbledore's imminent arrival, Hermione's frayed nerves jangled once more.

"Do we _really _have to do this?" she said, not expecting an answer.

"'Fraid so." Fred sighed. "It'll be fine, you know." He studied her for a moment in silence, then cleared his throat. "But just in case, any last requests?" regretting the words as soon as they left his lips, and expecting another '_Fred!_' he was pleasantly surprised when she gave him an answer.

"Kiss me?" she offered tentatively, as though uncertain whether he'd grant it. Stunned, he just sat and continued to stare. "I just... It'd be a real shame if we never... if something went wrong... Forget it, I'm being silly... and we aren't even in our own bodies anyway..." She trailed off, head bowed, eyes fixed on her twisting fingers in her lap. Her first indication that Fred had moved, was the light brush of his hand against her cheek. Startled, she looked up, only to find his face inches from hers, his eyes oddly, focussed with determination. In that moment, neither of them saw their own faces, they saw nothing but what their hearts, minds, souls wanted. One another. Fred's hand stroked along her jaw, then gently wove into the hair at the nape of her neck. Closer and closer they drew, until...

"Nonsense! It's only right."

Both snapped apart in surprise as the portrait swung open. "Mum?!" Fred choked, toppling sideways from his crouched position and sprawling on the floor.

Mrs. Weasley stepped into the room, followed by her husband. At Fred's outburst she glared angrily at Hermione's cowering body. "So it _is_ you in there!"

"Mum, what are you doing here?" gulped Fred.

"Your soul isn't where it's supposed to be! You have to take a potion that will rip it from your body. You could die or lose your soul! You don't think that the headmaster would contact me?" shouted Mrs. Weasley.

"I owl'ed both the Grangers and your parents this morning," Dumbledore told Fred. "I did express that there was no need for concern and that the problem was being dealt with, but your mother was anxious to see for herself."

"I've every right to be here," Mrs Weasley told Dumbledore sternly.

_Not the best time to remind her I'm of age now_, thought Fred defiantly.

"What in Merlin's name were you thinking?!" she shrieked, rounding on him as though he'd spoken this rebellious thought out loud.

"It wasn't on purpose," defended Fred, scrambling to his feet.

"I always told you not to mess with foolish potions! But no, you-"

"Wait," piped Hermione nervously. She bit her lip, her eyes glistened, and her arms were crossed as she hugged her chest to comfort herself. "I made the potion... not Fred." Mrs. Weasley's anger vanished and was replaced by utter confusion.

"It was still my fault," Fred said quickly, resting a hand on Hermione's shoulder. _She hasn't a clue what she's doing, handling Mum is a dangerous business, even for the professionals_. "I knew she was working on a potion and she told me to leave. I accidentally drank the potion instead of my drink. It was _completely_ my fault."

"You were both irresponsible! And to not inform a teacher - unbelievable!" Mrs. Weasley fiercely berated.

This was the straw that broke the hippogriff's back. Hermione had already been on the edge. "I'm sorry!!!" she yelled, tears running quickly down her freckled cheeks. She buried her face in her hands and her shoulders shook with her sobs. Mrs. Weasley was taken aback. She raised several boys, and Ginny who learned composure from them, and was not at all used to such a response to her loud lectures.

"Well done, Mum," Fred said bitterly, leaning over Hermione's distraught form and running a hand through her ginger hair. "It's okay, love. She acts angry, but she's just worried." Fred glanced up at his mother, no longer cowering but sporting his own formidable glare. Mr Weasley, still having not yet spoken, took note of the uncharacteristic tenderness in his son's tone and smiled to himself knowingly.

"Hermione, dear, I didn't mean to upset you. I can't imagine how difficult this was for you..." she stepped up beside Hermione and patted her on the back comfortingly. "It will all be over shortly."

"Yes, it will," said Dumbledore, stepping forward. Fred glimpsed Madam Pomfrey, hovering in the entrance, holding a flask of potion. "Are we all ready?" Everyone but Hermione nodded in agreement. "Miss Granger?" he asked kindly. She looked up at him glassily, glanced to Fred who flashed her an encouraging smile and she gave a resigned nod.

Without a word, Dumbledore conjured two goblets and shared the potion between them. Mrs. Weasley took a moment and kissed both Fred and Hermione on the foreheads, standing back nervously as they each took a goblet, plucked a hair from their heads, dropped them in and made the exchange. They looked up simultaneously, their eyes locking and each registered the same apprehension in the other. "Bottoms up," Fred said, toasting Hermione before lifting the potion to his lips. Hermione mirrored him, then both sputtered and coughed as it burned their throats, drawing a long fiery trail down to their stomachs.

A full minute passed before anyone found their voices. "Well?" worried Mrs. Weasley, staring at each face in the room.

"I admit that I am not familiar with this potion," answered Dumbledore when Mrs Weasley's eyes flicked to him. "I-"

"What?!" She screeched. "But you said you brewed it! You should've brought in an expert! Even Professor Snape -"

"Molly," Mr Weasley said firmly and perhaps because he rarely used such a tone, she fell silent.

"No matter Arthur, I should've been plainer," Dumbledore said calmly. "What I _meant _to say Molly, is that I have not as yet witnessed the _effects _of this particular potion. I am however, if I do say so myself, perfectly capable of _brewing _it." He chuckled slightly. "As for asking an _expert_, or indeed Professor Snape, I was under the impression that it would be more advantageous to Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley if we avoided the risk of Ministry involvement. Such a risk would be greatly increased, I fear, if the situation were to be more widely known. "

"Well then," Mrs Weasley floundered for words. "Surely... I mean..."

"When will the potion take effect?" supplied Mr. Weasley, looking to Madam Pomfrey as the next possible source of information.

"It takes about twenty minutes," Hermione said in a strained voice. "I'm sorry. I thought you knew," she told Dumbledore. Drawing her wand, she vanished the goblets that she and Fred were still clutching, in an attempt to avoid the eyes of all four adults. About to return her wand to her robe pocket, she stopped short and looked up at Fred. "Shall we reverse our wands?"

"Yeah," agreed Fred, drawing his own wand. "Might as well."

Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, watched on in fascination as, left hands clasped under their touching wand tips, the two teens nodded once and muttered "_Mutovirga._" The ribbon of light wrapped around their wands once more, they heard a gasp from Madam Pomfrey, and the light exploded through the room, leaving their wands with their original design.

"That's better," Hermione stated looking lovingly at her own Vinewood wand.

"You are quite a surprising pair," Dumbledore wore a small amused smile, which actually made Hermione feel more nervous.

"We should probably sit." suggested Fred, remembering how he'd passed out the first time. "Less uncomfortable all round." he added, taking one of the red velvet armchairs, Hermione sitting opposite in the other. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley took the sofa. Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey standing to the side. They sat in silence, occasionally glancing at the clock on the mantel. Hermione gasped as the numb tingling began in her fingers and toes, her heart racing while her breathing became slower. "It's starting," said Fred through gasps, the cold numb feeling rising to his shoulders and neck. "I hate this part..." Fred whined just as his heart felt as though it would burst. His breathing stopped, followed quickly by Hermione's. Their bodies shuddered together, their eyes rolling back.

"_Oh, Merlin_," Mrs. Weasley cried, running to her son's limp body. Madam Pomfrey ran to Hermione.

"Professor?" Mr. Weasley spoke in his deep even tone, getting to his feet and staring at Dumbledore. Dumbledore did not respond, but simply stared intensely at the two bodies.

Hermione drew in a sharp breath, her eyes snapping open. She was startled to see Madam Pomfrey looming above her, performing rapid diagnostic spells with her wand. Straightening up, she immediately brought her hands to her bushy brown hair. "I'm me! Fred?" She looked past Madam Pomfrey at Fred's still lax body. Her breath caught as panic seized her. _No! Fred!_ Bolting from her seat, she lurched forward and fell to her knees in front of him just as he pulled in a sudden lungful of air. _Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!_ She watched his eyes shoot open and his radiant smile as it dawned on him that it had worked. "Fred?"

Looking around at the many faces, he heaved himself into a more dignified position, chuckled and said "Thank Merlin!... that bra was killing me," Noticing Hermione crumpled at his feet, now clinging to his right hand, he added. "Hey 'Mione. What'ya doin' down there?"

Though she wasn't sure why, Hermione started crying again. She assumed it was purely relief, but she still felt so confused.

"Hermione... Are you alright, dear?" worried Mrs. Weasley, looking down at her in slight alarm as Fred bent forward and effortlessly picked her up. _Merlin, it's so nice to be able to do that at last_.

She nodded vigorously, wiping the tears from her eyes. "It just feels good to be me."

"Hear, hear," smiled Fred, getting to his feet and taking her with him.

"Well, now that all of our students are as they should be, I feel that it is finally time to discuss this matter," said Dumbledore. Hermione looked as though she'd be ill again, but Fred threw an arm casually round her shoulders and clamped her to his side, making her feel infinitely better. "Though this was an incredibly serious matter, I feel that you have served your punishment and learned a great lesson in responsible potion care by living this week in one another's shoes." Fred's face lit up at this statement. "But I'm afraid that it is not the only offence that needs to be addressed. For hiding such a dangerous secret and deceiving your teachers, you will both serve two weeks of detention. And 25 house points will be taken from you both. In addition, 25 points will be taken from Mr. Weasley for starting a brawl in the centre of Hogsmeade." Fred gulped at the furious look his mother gave him. "And 25 points will be taken from Miss Granger for her cliff diving stunt." At this, Madam Pomfrey and the two Weasleys gazed at Hermione in unflattering disbelief. "But to be fair, you also receive 10 of those points back for your _excellent_ form. I've seen many dives and must say that the red and gold birds were quite an original touch."

"You saw?!" cried Hermione in shock.

"I did," Dumbledore flashed her the smallest of smiles. "Now if you will all please excuse me, Dr. and Dr. Granger are anxiously awaiting my owl. The two of you may stay here until lunchtime to recover if you wish, or you may return to your daily lives forth with." And then, with a slight tilt of his head, Dumbledore added. "But do bear in mind that your friends may be anxious to catch up, after all, you've been missing for almost twenty four hours and with the exception of Miss Weasley, none of them are aware of what has befallen you." That said, he nodded to the Weasleys, turned smartly on the spot and exited through the portrait hole, Madam Pomfrey, having completed her scans, following behind him.

Fred and Hermione watched him go, both half relieved to have avoided any further punishment for spilling their secret, for they were certain that his last statement was meant to inform them that he knew of their visitors the previous evening. _Doesn't miss a trick that man_, thought Fred in awe, _He's bloody brilliant, knows everything he does_. Hermione on the other hand was logically trying to determine how Dumbledore had found out. Ideas from stealth censoring spells on the portrait hole to loose lipped house elves named Jimmy flashed through her mind.

"Wow, two weeks detention and 90 points from Gryffindor. I'd say we got off pretty easy," Fred smiled smugly.

SMACK!

"You won't get off so easy from me!" shouted Mrs. Weasley.

Fred rubbed his stinging cheek. "Geez, Mum..." he winced.

"Both Christmas and Easter holidays you will be working harder than a house elf around the Burrow." she told him in her best 'Do you hear me' tone, jabbing him in the chest with her index finger to get the point across. "You'll make it shine like never before!" She turned a soft smile to Hermione. "But I don't blame you, dear. You've been through enough. And if you would ever like to come over during the holidays, we'll be glad to have you." Fred chuckled at his mothers ability to switch gears so flawlessly. This earned him a swat to the back of his head. "Now you behave yourself!" Mr. Weasley nodded curtly, silently agreeing with his wife. The two had time to offer Hermione brief smiles and to leave their son with a glare to remember, before they too took their leave.

Alone with Fred once again Hermione finally let loose her giggles. "And what are _you_ laughing about?" he asked amusedly, smiling down at her.

"Your mum..." she wheezed through her laughter. "You should have seen the look on your face..."

"Nice to know my pain amuses you," he pouted, putting on his puppy dog eyes for good measure. This however did not have the desired effect. Instead of feeling sorry for him, Hermione just laughed harder. _She has a beautiful laugh_, he decided, vowing then and there that he'd make sure she laughed at least three times a day from then on. "I can't believe you're laughing at me." he said in mock hurt. "This means war!" he cried and began tickling her mercilessly. Squealing and squirming she sank down onto the sofa, pleading for him to stop. Fred was relentless however, not until she could no longer speak for lack of air did he comply.

She lay beneath him, panting for breath, her hair wild, her eyes dancing and her cheeks flushed. Never had he seen her look more appealing than at that moment. As her breaths quieted, she gazed up into his eyes and the magnetic feeling from before began it's agonisingly slow pull. It was similar to how Fred felt standing on the shore on a beautiful day as the tide drew him further and further out to sea, powerful, irresistible and absolutely terrifying. Slowly, ever so slowly, Fred moved closer to Hermione, his eyes never leaving hers, his left hand caressing her cheek while his right took the brunt of his weight. Their eyes fluttered shut simultaneously, as his soft, warm lips descended on hers.

Nothing Hermione had ever experienced could hold a candle to this. It was as though her entire body had melted beneath his touch and a pleasant electric current was humming through the puddle of pure joy she had become. She barely registered when Fred slid his tongue across her lip in an attempt to deepen the kiss, she simply reacted naturally, granting him access and letting him take her even further away from reality.

After what seemed like a beautifully sunny forever, but in actuality was only several minutes, Fred gave her one last feather-light brush of his lips, before pulling back and resting his forehead against hers.

"Wow," Hermione breathed, unable to think of anything coherent to say due to her extreme light headedness.

"I've waited days to do that," smiled Fred, sounding both relieved and satisfied.

"Me too," Hermione admitted, her faint blush hidden by her already flushed countenance.

"Sooo..." Fred drawled, tilting his head back so they could lock eyes once more. "Does this mean we're together now?

"'Fraid so."" Hermione replied, sounding anything but sorry.

"Good," Fred said sincerely. "That means I can do this any time I like." And he swooped down and graced her lips with an even more passionate kiss.

* * *

**There it was! The kiss you've all been waiting for. ^^ Hopefully it didn't disappoint.  
**

**Thank you Binka Fudge. You're_ fantastic_! Can't thank you enough!**

**I'll tell you all now... just one more chapter. =(**

**Please Review! Please!!!!**


	24. Opportunities

**If you've already read this - REREAD THIS!**

**I had to post it before editing and input from Binka Fudge. It's still same basic plot, but many pieces have been added!**

* * *

"So how're your detentions going?" Ron chided, nudging Hermione in the ribs playfully. "What was last night… number five?"

"You just think it's so hilarious, don't you?" grumbled Hermione. "Are you ever going to stop teasing me about it?"

"I'm sure I'll be done teasing when you've finished your two-week sentence. And actually I do find it amusing," chuckled Ron. "All those times you tell Harry and I to pay attention, be careful with our work, and stay out of trouble… and then you go and-"

"And you _should_ pay attention. You're going to poke that mouse's eye out if you keep waving your wand around like that," Hermione scolded.

"One less thing for him to vanish, not that it will help," laughed Harry. Ron and Hermione both turned their scowls at Harry. Harry pulled a straight face and cleared his throat. "But don't let him get to you Hermione. We've both had our share of detentions."

"It's not something to be proud of. _I'm_ not!" Hermione saw Professor McGonagall approaching and quickly turned to her work, vanishing her kitten on the first try. The class had been working on vanishing mice during the last two classes. When Professor McGonagall had seen Hermione vanish her thirteenth mouse, and do so looking rather bored, she moved onto vanishing kittens. This, of course, earned her sour looks not only from Ron and Harry but by the rest of the struggling class.

Professor McGonagall stood in front of Hermione's desk looking surprisingly disappointed. Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "I-Is there something wrong, Professor?"

"Just that I'm going to run out of kittens at this point, and it seems like a waste," explained Professor McGonagall. Hermione didn't know if she should feel flattered or guilty. "If you would like, you take class time to work on your essay."

"I…I finished it on Thursday," confessed Hermione, trying to ignore the envious glares from her classmates.

"Well, then perhaps you would like to continue with last week's lesson?" offered McGonagall. At Hermione's perplexed expression, Professor McGonagall continued, "The conjuring spell you were working on…"

"Oh," said Hermione. She looked around nervously at her classmates. "Sh-Should I?"

"Miss Granger, you are one of the brightest students I have had the privilege of teaching. Why do you allow yourself to be bothered with what others think of your success? The offer is now an assignment. I would like to see a reproduction of Monday's work by the end of class. And perhaps, you two," she said fixing her sternest glare on Harry and Ron, who were both looking at their mice with something akin to resentment, "should be a little less envious and a little more supportive."

Hermione pushed out her chair, the scraping noise deafening in the silence McGonagall demanded in her classroom. Focusing on the floor, rather than risk meeting anyone's eye, she slid round the desk and made for the same corner she and George had eccentrically furnished only ten days ago. Had it _really _only been ten days? It seemed like years. One week back in her own body, one week of classes and meals and homework with Harry and Ron, for whom nothing had really changed, and she felt almost as though it hadn't happened. Only it had, her budding relationship with Fred was proof of that. Even George and Lee had welcomed her into the fold. On the four occasions she'd spent more than a few stolen moments with Fred, they'd fully included her in their odd conversations, showing her their own variations of the spells they'd just mastered, asking her opinion on upcoming products and pranks, and playing 'make-out / marry / murder', all resulting in paralyzing fits of laughter.

She'd enjoyed sunday most though, Lee and the twins had kidnapped her from the common room, where she'd been struggling to keep her temper as she instructed Harry and Ron on the proper wand movement for the drying and ironing charms Flitwick had told them to practice after their disasterous first lesson on household spells, in which both of them had set their robes on fire. Having been bundled up in one of Fred's practice Quidditch robes and carried over his shoulder through the castle to the great amusement of students and teachers alike, she was eventually lowered to her feet on the very cliff top she'd leapt from as a prospective member of the Polar Bear Club. Rounding on the three boys, who lost their proud smiles upon seeing her fury, she berated them for at least five minutes on irresponsible behaviour, the dangers of being discovered there and her absolute refusal to allow George to take the jump, before Fred had the sense to snog her into a rather dazed silence. They'd then pointed out that they'd only intended to show her the newest name carved on the list of Polar Bear Club members and that while George was by no means against another initiation ceremony, he had decided that there was no point since Fred hadn't really done the cliff dive in the first place. Scanning the list, Hermione noticed _1995 - Fred G. Weasley _at the bottom and smiled, but at their insistence that she take another look, she watched the words wriggle and shift until they read _1995 - Hermione J. Granger_. On inquiring how they'd done it, all they would admit was that they had friends in high places. They'd then escorted her to the kitchens, where Ginny and Angelina, who George had spilled the Bertie Botts to the day before, were waiting with a buffet, party games and a proudly beaming house elf by the name of Jimmy.

Her soul nearly jumped right back out of her body when a whisper on her left interrupted her day dreaming. Her mind had completely floated away from her classwork. "It is not your abilities of which you should be ashamed, but your reluctance to use them. If the others are going to be jealous, you might as well give them something to be jealous of, Miss Granger. And feel free to relax and have a snack when you've finished your assignment," Hermione stood gaping in utter disbelief. _Did Professor McGonagall just wink at me?_ Never had she seen McGonagall wink… not even if there was something in her eye. She stared at her teacher as she walked to the next set of students. Finally she chuckled. Maybe Fred and George were right, McGonagall did have a secret sense of humour. Turning back to the empty corner, she mulled over what she'd just been told. It was easy to feel proud of herself when people thought she was Fred, but in the class with her own peers she would most likely just be labelled a show-off. _But when have they ever thought anything else? I've been called a know-it-all since I first got here, Professor McGonagall's right_. Straightening up, pulling back her shoulders and flourishing her wand, she spoke the incantation with perfect diction and conjured a comfortable looking armchair in shocking violet, identical to the one from last Monday. Eyeing it critically for a moment, she gave her wand another flick and muttered 'the colour change charm' under her breath, grinning at the result. The chair was now upholstered in Fred's favoured shade of deep blue. A matching ottoman, side table and reading lamp followed and she was just contemplating a stove, hoping that she'd get to enjoy it this time around, when Professor McGonagall called her name. "Hermione Granger… Professor Dumbledore would like to see you in his office." Hermione actually dropped her wand in shock. She could hardly breathe. _What?!_

Hermione actually dropped her wand in shock. She could hardly breathe.

"What did you do?!" whispered Harry loudly across the class room, from where he and Ron had swivelled around in their seats and were pinning her to the spot with identical accusatory glares.

"Nothing!" Hermione shot back. Her thoughts were racing. _I haven't done anything wrong, have I? Could it have anything to do with visiting the cliff top on Sunday? Oh no! What if Fred's had a delayed reaction to the potion! What if_...

"Well he wouldn't call you there just for a cup of tea." spat Ron sarcastically. "What did you do?"

"I don't know…" worried Hermione, almost in tears, too distracted by her own horrible imaginings to notice Ron's tone.

"Miss Granger…" McGonagall prompted, still holding the door open. Hermione reached down and picked up her wand and schoolbag and started walking towards her, every eye glued to her back, half vanished mice clean forgotten. A small nod from her Professor was the last she saw of the class room, before the door was closed and she stood alone in the cool dark corridor, her feet rooted to the spot.

"Psst…" Hermione whipped around quickly and looked at Fred in surprise. "Miss me?" he asked with a wide grin as he strode up to her.

Surprise quickly morphing into anger, her widened eyes narrowed, her dropped jaw clenched and one coherent word could be made out from her menacing growl. "_You!_"

Fred stepped back in shock and adjusted his shoulders, looking rather affronted. "I missed you too, Doll…" he said with his own glare.

"You know, that note thing might work for you and George, but that doesn't mean that it works for me. I don't want you to pull me out of class for anything less than a fatal wound! Now what's the emergency, because I know it's not your period this time," Hermione snapped, fists balling at her sides.

"My, my, very talented at jumping to conclusions aren't you," observed Fred conversationally, trying to calm his own anger. "Perhaps it's PMS," he teased.

"What- What do you mean?" she stuttered, all anger stripped away, leaving an unbearable nervous tension behind.

"I mean, _I_ didn't write the letter. I only delivered it and I thought I'd walk with you," Fred explained calmly, his anger also having dissipated upon seeing her frazzled state.

"But… I didn't do anything…" Hermione squeaked bewildered, her eyes pleading.

"I know," Fred assured, stepping closer once more. "Neither did I. That's what I find so curious."

"But, But, But…"

"Come my little motor boat," Fred smiled fondly, "This way" He held out his hand, but Hermione just stared at it blankly. "It's a hand, not a shark. It doesn't bite…" After ten more seconds, in which any passer by would have had just cause to assume the pair were one of those absurd wax works stolen from that muggle place in London, Fred linked arms with Hermione and guided her towards the ascending staircase. "Don't look so scared," he soothed, hugging her arm to his side. "We didn't do anything wrong. He's not going to punish us so relax a bit."

"But he doesn't call people to his office for nothing." she argued, clinging to him all the tighter.

"Well I never said it was nothing. I just don't think we'll be punished. He probably just wants to chat." said Fred unconcernedly.

"Chat?" Hermione snorted incredulously, jerking to a stop and staring at Fred's gentle smile. "Dumbledore doesn't excuse pupils from class to have a chat."

"And how do you know that?" he asked, setting off again and tugging her along. "I've had plenty of chats with the man."

"And you weren't in trouble?" she said sceptically, trying to keep up with his long strides.

"No, not always." he said in mock indignation, then relented at her stubborn glare. "I might have been accused, but not actually in trouble." At her slightly exasperated smile, he elaborated. "Once, in my second year, Filch accused me and George of plotting a prank, he was right of course but had no proof, and sent us to Dumbledore. He offered us tea and biscuits and we sat around playing Risk."

"You what?!" she again came to an abrupt halt and would've fallen back through the tapestry they'd just exited if Fred hadn't caught her round the middle.

"Played Risk. You know, that board game where your army tries to take over the world?" he whispered into her hair, both of them turning faintly pink at their current proximity. Deftly swinging them round and linking their arms in one move, Fred headed along the seventh floor, away from the Fat Lady, who appeared to be trying to eavesdrop. "He won of course, but next time I'll take Australia first… It's always the least suspicious." he added offhandedly.

"You played board games with the headmaster?" Hermione felt light headed. The world was making less sense as the day went on. Professor McGonagall winked playfully and Professor Dumbledore held board game parties in his study? Was no one resistant to the charm of the Weasley twins? _I don't suppose I have any room to talk though_, she thought, glancing across at Fred whose eyes were fixed directly ahead, his purposeful expression making her knees go weak.

"Well, I think he only did it to keep the two of us occupied so we wouldn't be tempted to go on with our prank. We've gained quite a respect for the guy over the years." replied Fred.

"If you respected the headmaster, you wouldn't be referring to him as 'the guy.'" Hermione retorted. "And I highly doubt he's calling us to play games." she added, returning to her previous worry.

"Dumbledore by any other name is still as well thought of." he quipped. "And I still think he just wants to chat about something so stop worrying." Hermione didn't look at all like she could shake her anxiety. Fred pulled her to a stop and stared down into her face. "I'm not just saying it to make you feel better. Although I _would_ try that. Really, you don't need to worry." He gently brushed her cheek with his thumb. "We've both been very well behaved and he'd never punish us for nothing or hold our past wrongs over us, it's not his way. Trust me." Hermione was entranced by his deep hazel eyes. "You do trust me, don't you?" he asked.

"Yes, of course I do." she affirmed, steadily holding his gaze, so that he might see her bare honesty.

"That's better," he whispered huskily, leaning down and pressing a warm, soft kiss to her lips. It wasn't lustful, or passionate, just reassuring really, nevertheless it had Hermione blushing to the roots of her hair and tingling to the tips of her toes. Pulling back, Fred smiled in satisfaction and turned to the gargoyle . "Fizzing Whizbees"

"Come in," said the old gentle voice, before Fred had even had chance to knock. They stepped inside, Hermione still grasping Fred's arm, her eyes downcast. "Thank you both for coming. Please, have a seat." He gestured to the two leather armchairs in front of his large desk. Both sat obediently. "May I offer you some tea?" he offered smiling pleasantly. Fred nodded and Hermione just looked up apprehensively. "Your usual Mr. Weasley?"

"Please," Fred answered politely. Dumbledore nodded, waved a hand and passed the steaming cup of tea over to Fred, who accepted it with a greatful smile and took a long appreciative sip.

"Miss Granger?"

"Um... anything but liquorice," Hermione said quietly, remembering her last visit to the headmasters office with a grimace.. Both men chuckled and she blushed profusely. _Oh Merlin, I'm turning into a Weasley_.

"She prefers her tea with lemon and honey," smiled Fred, still amused.

"Oh ho!"Dumbledore exclaimed happily. "It would appear then that I have not lost my touch." a second teacup appeared and Fred retrieved it and offered it to Hermione, who was looking rather startled at her headmaster's enthusiasm. "I prided myself in my youth on being able to offer my guests their preferred beverage without having to ask," he told Fred. "It's one of the skills required of a decent host, you know. That and the ability to defuse awkward situations with inane chatter." he glanced to Hermione briefly and his eyes twinkled with mischief. "Such tactics are often necessary at dinner parties to which Mr A and Mrs B are invited, two people perfectly nice in and of themselves but highly explosive when mixed." He sighed nostalgically, "One gets so few welcome visitors these days, unless one is to count ministry officials." Fred coughed to hide a laugh and Hermione continued to study Dumbledore as though he were an interesting curio she'd just discovered. "I feared my talents were getting rather rusty," he continued. "But after your stopping by last week, Miss Granger, it is now clear to me that they were simply hibernating, awaiting a worthy challenge." one more casual wave and a platter appeared on the desk between them. "Cream puff?"

"No, thank you," Hermione said weakly as Fred nodded and selected a chocolate coated choux bun. _Stopping by? he's making it sound as though I were just in the area and thought I'd take the opportunity to catch up!_

"Now, I'm sure you're both wondering why I have asked you here," stated Dumbledore sitting back in his chair.

"Well," Fred started, taking a drink of tea to wash down his mouth full of cake, "We know that neither of us has gotten into anymore trouble," he noticed Hermione drop her head in the corner of his vision. "But I have a feeling we're not here to play games either." he finished shrewdly, putting down his half empty cup, his full attention on Dumbledore, who gave a hearty chuckle.

"Although I always appreciate a good game, you are right in thinking that I have not called you here for that purpose. I do hope it won't be too long before our next marathon however, your father sent me a beautifully charmed monopoly game for my birthday, converted to galleons and everything. In fact, it even includes Diagon Alley if one looks at it in the right light. Returning to his usual demeanour, his fingers neatly steepled and those penetrating blue eyes twinkling once more, Dumbledore announced, as though the last few minutes hadn't happened, I have summoned you because I wish to discuss last week's events."

"Professor," Fred interrupted boldly, determined to settle Hermione's anxieties as soon as possible. "Can you please just tell us that we're in no more trouble, before Hermione collapses from stress?"

"You are not in any more trouble," assured Dumbledore, trying to meet Hermione's eyes. She looked up and took a deep calming breath, but still felt awfully sick. She still had no idea why she was here. "I have spoken with all your teachers about your behaviours throughout the week. And I must say that I am very pleasantly surprised by the reports I received. It seems that you both performed incredibly well. You, Mr Weasley, participated in _all_ of Miss Granger's classes, taking notes and answering questions, _even_ in Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, which you have never before attended."

"They weren't nearly as difficult as I expected, but I still would have preferred naptime - I mean divination. But _smarty pants _here doesn't find it stimulating enough," teased Fred. Hermione chuckled and rolled her eyes, she was feeling so much better already.

"It also seems," continued Dumbledore with a smile. "That although placed in classes two years above her level, Miss Granger managed to not only keep up, but excelled over many of the other students." Hermione blushed and ducked her head. "One must admit to ones accomplishments as well as ones failings, Miss Granger, otherwise people see one as rather unbalanced." Nodding bashfully, she looked up again with a tentative smile. "You _both_ also showed exceptional skills in brewing the soul switching potion and the charm you performed on your wands." Fred smiled proudly and Hermione just blinked in shock. The last thing she had expected from Dumbledore was praise for such a huge mistake and an even greater deception. "I always give credit where it is due." he added on catching her expression. "Even the wisest of us makes mistakes, the important thing is to learn from them." she nodded again and felt a pressing weight lift from her chest. "Now, having taken all of that into consideration, I have decided to offer you a very rare opportunity. Miss Granger, I understand that you have always been very ambitious, skilled, and hardworking. It is in my opinion, as well as those of your other Professors, that you are capable of continuing taking the N.E.W.T. classes."

Hermione stared at him in confusion. "Y-You m-mean _now_?" she stuttered. Both Fred and Dumbledore beamed indulgently at her.

"Yes," Dumbledore answered. "You are by no means obligated, but if you wish to move ahead in your education, you are welcome to transfer from fifth year classes to seventh year N.E.W.T.'s."

Hermione was gobsmacked. Her mouth hung open in disbelief. "B-but what about my O.W.L.'s?"

"As I'm sure you already know, O.W.L.'s are simply to test your strengths and help you into classes that you might succeed in at N.E.W.T. level. But you have already proven your readiness and need not worry about your O.W.L.'s as your teachers have already agreed to accept you should you choose this option. Their letters of recommendation and samples of your recent coursework would be owled to the ministry and you would be awarded O.W.L results based on that information."

"I-I... I don't know what to say. I... I'm not sure I'd be prepared to take my N.E.W.T's at the end of this year. I'll be missing two years of my education!" Hermione panicked. She was extremely excited by the idea, but also very overwhelmed.

"Again. You are under no obligation to accept. But I would not suggest this if I did not think that you were up to the challenge. I would not send you into this to fail. From what your professors have told me, you always seem to study ahead and do very well at teaching yourself from the books you read. I believe that with the help of a dedicated peer, a mentor of sorts, you would be able to quickly catch up with the seventh year students and be fully prepared for your N.E.W.T.'s this coming June. However, if you found that you were not ready to take the final exams at year's end, you could repeat the seventh year curriculum in what would have been your sixth."

Hermione smiled slightly, her heart hammering away in her chest like a road drill. This was an amazing opportunity, but a lot to take in. She would have to leave her friends and move two years ahead where she hardly knew anyone, with the exception of Fred, George and Lee. She bit her lip as many thoughts crowded together in her mind, each one begging for her attention, but none loud enough for her to focus on. "I - I don't know."

"You should do it!" said Fred enthusiastically. "You're brilliant! Everyone knows that. And I know how flustered you get in class when your classmates are envious, thinking you're showing off. You're being given the chance to step up and really spread your wings! Take it!"

"I...I want to... but... there's so much to consider," Hermione said, running her hand through her soft curls, finding it hard to think with Fred's excited face in front of her.

"But there's not. Details come later. This is incredible!" beamed Fred, placing his hand on her shoulder. "You can do this."

"Your faith in your friend is commendable, Mr Weasley," smiled Dumbledore. "Which brings me to why I've asked _you_ here." Hermione and Fred, both having momentarily forgotten the headmaster's presence, looked up curiously. "It seems that the both of you have worked exceptionally well together over the last week. Supporting and bringing out the best in one another. You both forced each other to recognise and extend to your full potentials. If Miss Granger accepts this opportunity, I wonder if you might consider becoming the peer that guides her through her studies."

"ME?!" Fred shouted in disbelief. "But... there have got to be a lot of better choices out there than me. I barely scrape through my classes."

"I don't believe that you have any problems with your lessons besides lack of effort," stated Dumbledore bluntly, the corners of his mouth twitching. "But it is obvious to me that no one cares more about Miss Granger's success than yourself. You have proven that when you apply yourself, you are quite the talented wizard. There are many students that would be able to help her, but I feel that you would be the most dedicated and supportive." Hermione looked hopefully at Fred. Though still apprehensive, Fred gave her a small lopsided smile and nodded. How could he tell her no? "There are, as Miss Granger pointed out, more details to consider before making her decision. Her place as a prefect, for example." he turned to Hermione. " Sadly, being transferred to a different year would mean that I would have to give the position to a different fifth year girl. But this would probably be advisable anyway, because you will be rather busy with your studies." Hermione nodded slowly. She wasn't quite sure how she felt about the idea. She'd worked so hard for that little gold badge, her parents had been so proud. "Also, your living arrangements. Though you would not be _forced_ from your dorm, I think you would find it beneficial if both you and your mentor permanently moved into the quarters guarded by Gretchen's portrait. Skipping two years ahead, while not beyond you, will require a great deal of concentration and study, something that you would find extremely taxing without a private workspace away from the main hustle and bustle of the school."

Turning to Fred, Hermione was surprised to see that he now looked rather stiff and uncomfortable. "I'd be honoured to be her mentor, Sir," he confirmed, with such a Percyish manor that she had to pinch her leg hard to stop herself from giggling. _He'd never speak to me again if I shared that little observation_.

"Thank you, Mr Weasley." nodded Dumbledore, "For the record, Miss Granger, do you accept Mr Weasley as your mentor?" Noticing the fierce look in Fred's eyes, his rigid posture and clenched jaw, Hermione finally understood his discomfort. There was no way that he would allow the possibility of another man living in such close quarters with her. She nodded her ascent and it was as though she'd flicked a switch. Fred immediately relaxed and flashed her one of his heart-melting grins. Somehow, she found his possessiveness quite endearing, it made her feel safe and protected. "Excellent! Having all the eyes crossed and teas dotted will make the process so much easier if you do decide to accept." A puzzled silence fell, both Fred and Hermione wondering the same thing. _Did he just say what I thought he did?_ Neither felt inclined to comment however and the matter was forgotten in light of a much more pressing one.

"Wh-what about after graduation?" asked Fred, his eyebrows knit with curiosity. Hermione looked at him, not understanding his question. "She won't be seventeen yet. Will she be able to use magic?" her head snapped round and she stared at Dumbledore intently. She'd never thought of that. Would there be much point in finishing school early if she couldn't apply what she'd learned straight away?

"I have already spoken to the ministry regarding this matter. After graduation, Miss Granger may apprentice a witch or wizard that is of age. A contract of sorts will be forged. Whoever she chooses must accept because her use of magic will be monitored by them. If Miss Granger breaks any laws before her seventeenth birthday, her mentor, as well as herself, will be punished for the crime."

"But who...?" asked Hermione, unable to think of anyone off the top of her head.

"I'm sure that there are many witches and wizards that would accept you as an apprentice. You are a very responsible witch. And as your seventeenth birthday is this upcoming September, you would not need to apprentice for long before you could set off on your own career path."

"Career..." Hermione's mind was spinning. This time next year she might be living on her own and working at the ministry. It was an exciting prospect, but scarey too. What if she couldn't cope?

"I understand, of course, that you will need time to consider the matter. But the sooner you decide, the easier it will be for you to adjust. I believe we have covered the main points, so you may go for now, but feel free to come and find me if you have any other concerns." Dumbledore dismissed, perhaps realising that Hermione was in great need of a break.

The two stepped out of the office, Hermione still slightly punchdrunk. This had been one of the craziest days she'd ever spent at Hogwarts, and that was definitely saying something after everything she'd been through in the past few years.

"This is incredible, Hermione," Fred said staring into Hermione's eyes with a large proud smile on his face, as the moving staircase meandered back down towards the gargoyle. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking this is crazy..." Hermione laughed. "This just can't be happening. I'd love to accept but..."

"But what?" Fred asked as he stepped back into the seventh floor corridor and put an arm around her shoulders.

"I don't know. Am I really ready?"

"No doubt in my mind." he said firmly. "But even if I fail spectacularly as a mentor and you're not ready this summer, Dumbledore says you can repeat. What do you have to lose?"

"Harry and Ron..." she mumbled, dragging to a halt and hanging her head sadly.

"They're your friends. Do you really think they'd want you to pass up an opportunity like this? And it's not like you'll fall off the planet. You'll still see them at meals and on weekends." Fred reasoned. "They're your friends and graduating early won't change that. This is a very rare opportunity..."

"You're right," Hermione looked positively giddy. "I'd be stupid to decline... Would you really help me?"

"Absolutely. It really would be an honour. Not to mention, there's no way I'm going to let another bloke room with you."

"So you do want to stay in the teacher's quarters?" Hermione asked, stepping closer to Fred. "You wouldn't mind being trapped down there studying with me all alone, all hours of the day and night?"

Fred licked his lips and smiled slyly before leaning down to capture her soft lips with his. "Not as long as I get rewarded like that," he grinned. He leaned down and whispered in her ear. "So are you going to accept?"

Excited shivers ran through her for more than one reason. "Yes," she decided, her chest ready to burst with enthusiasm. "But not because of your seduction," she chuckled. She stepped back and looked at him with a cheeky grin. "If we are going to room together, you're going to have to exercise some discipline."

"I'd rather exercise our lips," he whispered, kissing near her ear.

"Maybe I should ask George to mentor me then," threatened Hermione.

"Okay, okay. Discipline. Got it," pouted Fred. "Now go tell Dumbledore that the most brilliant witch of the age is ready to soar to new heights."

Hermione stood on her tip toes and placed a quick soft kiss on his lips. "I love you."

"What's not to love?" smirked Fred. Hermione rolled her eyes. " You know I love you too," he said with a honest smile, giving her another soft kiss. "Now get up there," he ordered, landing a light smack on Hermione's bum. She turned and scowled at him playfully. This would prove to be a very interesting year.

* * *

**Well, there it is... the end. *pout***

**But as you may have noticed, I left it rather open ended. This could be for you to set up your own day dream (which I highly recommend) but I'm also throwing around the idea of a possible sequel. Please don't get your hopes up though. I have a lot of story ideas swimming in my head right now.**

**And speaking of story ideas. I _was_ going to give you an idea of what my next fanfic might be about... until it became more complex than I anticipated, the characters actually limiting growth of the idea. SO... I'm going to make it a novel instead (my own characters of course). ^^ And though I'm sure most of you are too polite to say is to me, I know that what you've read in my fanfics is certainly not talented enough for an actual novel. And I _completely_ agree, but I never do as well when trying to contain my ideas inside short stories. I can do _much _better than this, swear it. So I don't know when my next fanfic is going to come out. **

**I'm taking part in NaNoWriMo! November is "National Novel Writing Month" (although it's really international) If you like writing and have an idea for a novel, check out NaNoWriMo . org. It's a challenge to write a novel that's at least 50,000 words in a period of 30 days. Starts Nov. 1st and stories must be submitted by November 30th at midnight. If you're taking part in NaNoWriMo, Private Message me! I'd love to talk to someone else that's participating!  
**

**For those of you not interested in writing, only reading, this means that I won't have another fanfic out for at least a month. But I promise that more will come! I'm even a few chapters into another Fred/Hermione fanfic, so mark me under Author Alert. There will be more Fred/Hermione lovin' to come in about a month or two! I promise! ^^**

**Please Review!  
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	25. SEQUEL

Hello all.

This is a terrible update, I know. And I apologize to any of you that expect to see information about a sequel as it's not here… yet.

The thing is, I just haven't gotten around to writing a sequel and I really doubt that I ever will. It's depressing… BUT…

CALLING ALL WRITERS!

I am opening the option, giving my blessing, for YOU to write and post your own sequel to this story! I'm dying to know what happens next, probably more than you! So, if you have a good idea and want to post it, I would love to, not only to hear of it myself, post information here to help people find your story. And this isn't just open to one person. I would love to see several sequels if people are willing to write them!

So… the challenge is there. I desperately hope that at least one of you out there is up to that challenge!

Thanks and I am truly and sincerely sorry that I don't have a sequel to give you myself.

-BittyBlueEyes


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